


Plaything

by MacShellyMac



Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Denial of Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Life, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, From Sex to Love, Fuckbuddies, Guns, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Oral Sex, Revenge, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 68,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacShellyMac/pseuds/MacShellyMac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nevada Ramirez has to be stopped. </p><p>The NYPD has been trying to nail him for years and have never even gotten close. They're desperate and so they send in undercover police investigator Rebecca Meza to infiltrate the gang and expose Ramirez for good. </p><p>Too bad no one knew what would happen when Rebecca stepped into Washington Heights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rosa

**Author's Note:**

> So, as you guys can see, this is my first fic and I'm really excited but nervous about it! I hope you guys like it and please let me know what you all think in the comments, I would love feedback!! 
> 
> There is a lil bit of Spanish in this chapter, with translations in the end notes. I apologize if there are any mistakes; I don't actually know any of the language, so I just used the internet. 
> 
> To come later on in the story: fights, guns, sex, drugs, and all that other fun stuff!!!

The first step was to become the character she was meant to portray. Talk like her, act like her, walk like her. Know her story, know her family, know everything about her. Know her brother Alejandro. Know everyone he knew. Know where she grew up and who her parents were. Know the name of the hospital she was born in and the street she grew up on. Know how she got that scar on the back of her neck and know the story about that time she broke her arm when she fell off a swing at the park.

Know how a car hit her mother and didn’t bother to even slow down. Know about how she and Alejandro no longer had a home. Know how her wonderful older cousin Mario took them in. Know about how everything changed after that.

_My name Eulalia Rosa, but I go by Lali. A year and a half ago, my brother got arrested for trafficking and got 35 years worth of jail time. Holy shit, right? But it wouldn’t seem like so much if you saw the amount of coke he had on him._

She had to know everything. She had to become Lali.

_After that, the NYPD arrested man after man, slowly working their way through our entire system. Fuck, we even ran out of scapegoats and there were more of them than there was of us. Mario, the ringmaster of the gang, took that as a queue to leave town. He left in the middle of the fucking day, 3:30 on a sunny afternoon. Took seven million dollars and two train tickets. One for him, one for his right hand man and that was it. Nothing for me, except an address on the back of a chewing gum wrapper._

The little details mattered. Everything mattered.

_So now the family has fallen apart. All his men and women, all his pawns and all his sidekicks, they’re all gone. They’ve moved on. Now, I have to do the same._

That was the character and the story. Rebecca had to become her so flawlessly that she forgot herself. That was vital or else everything would fall apart. But the issue was that, though Lali was completely fictional, the story was not. There really was an Alejandro rotting in jail and there really was a drug dealer cousin named Mario who skipped town after his gang became infiltrated.

After months of training, it was finally time to put the plan into action. It started with Rebecca staying at a dodgy motel in Washington Heights. Every Sunday, she dressed in a frilly frock and walked to church. She made sure that the man they were after noticed her. She made sure he knew that she wasn’t afraid of him and made sure he knew she wasn’t a good girl, no matter what the minister thought when she sat in the seats of the old, rotting church. She made sure to give enough knowing looks so that he would become curious about her. Curious enough to actually ask about her. No one knew her, of course, and that would just make him even more curious.

_That girl with the leather jacket and flowery fucking dresses. Who the fuck is she and what does she want?_

_Maybe she’s a client._

_Don’t you think I would know if she was a fucking client, cabron?_

The address on the gum wrapper was his but she had to make sure he knew her face before she showed up at his door, so that when she did, he wouldn’t just kick her out.

He didn’t live alone. He could afford a penthouse in Manhattan if he wanted, but he still lived in a shitty old house with three of his best men. It was like insurance. Above everything—above the inventory, above the money, above even his own family—was his own life. He had to make sure he was untouchable and so far, he was doing a hell of a good job.

“Can I help you?”

Rebecca looked up at the man in front of her. He was tall, thick, bald, and had a Spanish accent when he spoke. She could tell he recognized her from Church.

“I’m looking for Nevada Ramirez,” she answered coolly.

“Wait here.”

The door swung closed behind him as he retreated into the house. Rebecca stood, biting the inside of her cheek. She had been on undercover cases before, but nothing this huge. Most of the time, she had to pick up the small scale drug dealers and hookers off the street for a couple of hours, and sometimes, she had to go undercover to find out where the suppliers and pimps were operating from. But even that was small scale compared to this. Becoming part of the biggest operation in the city to hand over to the cops, the most dangerous man in the city required a lot of time and a lot of calculating. It was a lot of pressure but Rebecca knew she could handle it, and she knew her boss could, too, or else he would never have approached her about this.

She shifted her duffle bag from one shoulder to the other. In it were the clothes, books, and all identification belonging to Eulalia Rosa. Hidden in her pants, were her gun, her badge, and her ID stating she was Officer Rebecca Meza from the New York Police Department.

But, also in her bag, were three grams of cocaine and a bag of narcotics. If Nevada decided to have his men search her bag, they wouldn’t think she had anything more to hide than the drugs.

The door swung open. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He said as he leaned against the doorframe, looking down his nose at her as he smiled his disgusting smile. _“_ _¿Qué tal?_ _”_

“ _Bien_ ,” she replied, unsmiling.

“What can I do for you _, cariño?”_

“Not call me that, for one,” Rebecca said firmly. “And second, I was hoping you’d let me in.”

Nevada chuckled at that. “If you come in, I can’t guarantee your coming back out.”

How gross. “I’ll take my chances,” she said, her expression still neutral.

“You look different today,” he said to her, slowly moving his eyes up and down her body. She was wearing old jeans and a white t-shirt, with a flannel shirt tied around her waist. “You usually wear those little dresses, or maybe you just wear those to church, which would be fitting, wouldn’t it, because they show off your _heavenly_ legs?” He stepped down from the threshold so he was closer to her height. “It was like an answered prayer when the wind picked up and blew your skirt up that one time…”

“You really don’t seem like the praying type, Nevada.”

“Neither do you. I’d love to see you kneel, though.”

“Can you pretend for five fucking seconds that I have a dick so I can actually talk about what I came here for?”

He stopped laughing, but kept an amused expression on his face. “Sure,” he said. “What do you want?”

“I need a place to stay.”

He laughed again. “You’ve been in town for over a month,” he said. “Where were you before now?”

“A motel,” she replied. “But the room was eating all my money so I thought I’d look for a place to stay.”

“Hmm…” Nevada stepped closer, feigning contemplation before raising his hands to Rebecca’s face “And why would I let you stay with me?” He held her face in his hands, stroking her gently with his thumbs, but he tightened his grip when she tried to move away. “And how would you _repay_ me if I do?”

She huffed, “How about you take me seriously?”

He lowered his face to hers, all hints of amusement gone. “How about you tell me who the fuck you are and how you know where I live before you start demanding I do anything for you, you little _puta_?”

Rebecca didn’t flinch. She had anticipated that he would act like this so it wasn’t a surprise. And the way she was behaving was all a part of the plan. “My name is Eulalia Rosa, but I go by Lali.”

Nevada’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Rosa…” he repeated.

“I know where you live because Mario gave me the address.”

He smirked, letting go of her. “Ah, Mario. The coward still in hiding?”

“You’re the one with live-in bodyguards,” she said, “And you’re calling him a coward?”

His smirk faded again and he stared at her.

“Look,” Rebecca said, dropping the forceful tone of voice. “My cousin left the country and my brother’s in prison. I can’t go anywhere else and I can’t do anything because that life was all I ever knew and now I’m running low on supplies. I need to come work for you.”

Nevada replied in Spanish. “How can I say no to that?” He turned and gestured her to follow him inside.

Rebecca followed, not knowing what to expect. All she knew was that he wasn’t convinced of her just yet.

He lead her into the living room, where the man who opened the door sat with another man, both watching soccer with the TV on mute with the radio on, turned to the Spanish station. Nevada grabbed her bag and pulled it roughly off her shoulder, pushing her away when Rebecca reached for it. “Search this,” he said to his men as he threw the bag onto the stained sofa and the men quickly got to work, rooting through it. They howled when one of them pulled out her underwear—a thong, specifically—and held it up in front of his face. “Ah, a real _collientapollas_ , am I right, boss?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Rebecca snapped. The boys look at her, surprised, but she just turned to Nevada. “I’m not going to put up with shit like this.”

“You don’t get to decide what you do or don’t put up with,” Nevada replied, gesturing to the men to continue searching.

“You don’t get it,” she said. “I wasn’t just some lackey. My job was more than just running around town with a bag of E in my stocking. I actually _did_ shit.”

He turned to her fully. “And you don’t get that I’m not Mario,” he said, his voice low. “The only reason you’re standing here at all is because he and Alejandro lived up to their word and had my back when I needed it. I swore I’d repay them. As far as I’m concerned, giving you a room to sleep in should be enough to call us even.”

“Really,” Rebecca said flatly. “They shot down three of their own men for you and you think giving their sister a bed for a few nights to be equal.”

His eyes darkened at her words. He took a step towards her but before he could say or do anything, one of the men spoke.

“Sir, you’re gonna wanna see this,” he said.

Nevada raised his eyebrows in surprise as the men pulled the drugs out from the duffle bag. “Is it legit?”

One man opened a baggie of cocaine, licked his finger, and dipped it into the powder. He tasted the residue on his skin before nodding. “It’s real.”

Nevada smirked. “Guess you really are Mario’s girl.”

“Cousin,” Rebecca corrected.

“Like fuck it matters, he’s pissed out the country,” he said, turning to the boys. “Pablo, Lali here will be sleeping in your room.”

“What? Why mine?”

“Because I’m not going to have her sleeping on the couch, dumbass, now pack your shit and move down to the basement. Have Isaac help you out.”

The men turned and left begrudgingly, leaving Rebecca alone with Nevada. He turned to her once they were out of earshot. “So you really are a Rosa, then?”

“Always been, always will be,” she replied.

“Lali Rosa…” he said, the humour back in his voice. “Pretty name.”

Rebecca looked at him, unsmiling, unimpressed, and tried not to flinch when he ran his fingers through her hair.

“You know, it might be nice to have you around,” he said, twirling a small section of hair around his finger. “Things were starting to get a little dull around here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cabron - fucker
> 
> ¿Qué tal? – How’re things/how are you etc.
> 
> Bien – Good
> 
> Cariño –Dear etc.
> 
> Puta - Whore
> 
> Collientapollas – cocktease


	2. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first couple of chapters are going to be information-filled, but it's pretty necessary. I am going to try to spread it out as much as I can, though. I hope you like this chapter.

The first night at Nevada’s house was surprisingly easy to get through. Rebecca had expected to be paranoid, tossing and turning the entire night and jolting awake every few hours, afraid of being attacked. Instead, she slept through the night completely, the only issue being getting used to the smell that seemed to be coming from the walls of the room in which she was sleeping. Pablo took most of his things down to the basement yesterday, but there were still a few items that remained. Rebecca hoped that when those were removed, the smell would be gone as well.

The room was large but it felt small. The furniture was all oversized—the bed was king-sized and the dresser was larger than any she’d ever seen. There were two bedside tables and a very large desk with a very large chair but the window was small. It felt like walking into a giant’s home. Up the beanstalk, into the crowded hoard, ready for her bones to be ground to make bread. Everything felt bleak and grey and she found herself wondering exactly how much Nevada paid these men. It didn’t seem like much, but maybe that was so they could continue keeping a low profile. If the police wanted to find a drug lord who made millions of dollars, they wouldn’t look for an old house like this one.

In fact, they didn’t. The only reason why they found this place was because Alejandro Rosa was jailed. At first, he didn’t tell anyone anything about his operation, nor any other operations going on around the state but when news broke out of Mario’s disappearance and the gang’s dispersal, Alejandro was ready to speak. That was how the police learned so much about Nevada Ramirez. Unlike the Rosas, Nevada was a sole leader of his gang and everyone else was a pawn. The men that lived with him, Isaac, Pablo, and Raphael, were his most trusted and loyal men and they accompanied Nevada everywhere he went. There was no way to get those three to talk.

Outside of that inner circle, the gang was separated into ranks. First were those that took care of the inventory. They were the ones to find warehouses and storage units. They made deliveries for major clients. These men were also trusted, but their biggest threat was their history. If any of them were to go to the police, there would be enough charges and records against them that they would never be able to get away without jail time.

Second rank was security. They were the spies, the cameras, and the ones with all the information. They were not paid much because the budget for them went into getting new technologies. Nevada kept them from running to the police by having them dig up each of their hacking history and provide him with proof of their past activities. If they were to rat him out, one would simply have to drop a hint to the FBI and they would land in jail for countless acts of fraud, identity theft, and hacking of confidential government files.

Third rank was those that did the dirty work; the ones that got clients out of hiding. If someone from a rival gang was caught on the wrong side of the city, they were the ones to bring him to Nevada. They also did the occasional delivery and chauffeur service. These men were almost exclusively ex-prisoners. All have had mug shots; all have spent at least a year in a federal penitentiary. They had nowhere to go and couldn’t find work in the real world after doing their time. Nevada was their last resort. Below working for him was going back to prison and below that, homelessness. Before Rebecca was sent into training for this mission, her unit had to make sure she hadn’t made any of those arrests.

Fourth rank, the lowest, was the mules. The lackeys, the delivery people, the dealers. Simply put, scapegoats. If they were caught, then they went to jail and no one could even touch the rest of the gang. They didn’t know enough and weren’t important enough to be considered a part of a larger information and were treated, instead, just as local drug dealers.

The reason why Alejandro knew all this was because of the men he and Nevada shared. There were many people that were used for communication between gangs. They were neither on the outside, nor the inside. They set up meetings for clients or for those that wish to speak to the group leaders. They knew how the gangs worked. In fact, they knew _too_ much. They would never rat one man out because that would mean making two enemies.

Security was of the utmost importance. The way everything was set up, no one could touch Nevada. Not unless they were already in a circle of their own.

And that was how the idea of going undercover formed. The first attempt was three years ago and it ended with the undercover officer getting shot by Nevada himself. This time, the NYPD took all precautions to make sure that would not happen again.

Rebecca carried her gun with her at all times. It was not the gun she was assigned to when she became and officer, but rather a Boberg XR45-S, a small .45 meant for concealment. She had had it underneath her pillow when she was sleeping and she had slipped it into her jeans when she woke up in the morning, even though the house was empty when she rose and she hadn’t been out of her room.

Until someone opened the front door. Rebecca heard a shrill voice like that of a child’s before she heard a woman speak.

“Nevada? Rafi?” the voice called out.

Rebecca emerged from her room to find a woman in the living room, trying to keep her son from running off. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“Oh,” said the woman, turning to her. “You must be Lali. Rafi told me about you. I’m Fernanda Ramirez.”

“Ramirez?” asked Rebecca. “So you are Nevada’s…?”

“Sister,” Fernanda said. “Are Nevada and the men out on business?”

“I don’t know. The house was empty when I woke up.”

“Oh.” She turned to the boy with her. “In that case, Carlos, why don’t you go play in Uncle Isaac’s room?” Once the boy was out of earshot, she turned to Rebecca. “Isaac’s the only one who actually keeps his crap hidden.”

Rebecca smiled. “Would you like some breakfast?”

She knew who Fernanda Ramirez was. She knew about her other son, who died in a warehouse fire four years ago. She knew of her recent relationship with Raphael, who assumed a paternal role in her younger son’s life. But Rebecca pretended not to know about her at all and the two of them talked over omelettes. Strangely enough, despite the craziness of the situation, talking to Fernanda was the same as talking to any other of her female colleagues. It was a different story when speaking to Nevada, but Rebecca was already getting the feeling that when the boss isn’t around, the three bodyguards would be just as easy to get along with.

It was an hour before Nevada walked into the house. The four men came into the kitchen and made enough noise that Carlos came running from the bedroom on the second floor to the main floor in order to greet Rafi, who, after giving Fernanda a quick kiss, was dragged away to play. Isaac and Pablo offered lazy hellos to the women and both went about their own business. Fernanda announced that she had to run some errands and would be back in a couple of hours.

Nevada sat down at the kitchen table, across from Rebecca, and lit a cigarette. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Well.”

“Hm.”

Rebecca waited for him to say something—anything, really—but Nevada just stayed silent, slumped in his chair and puffing his cigarette, so she spoke.

“Where were you?”

He looked at her through his eyebrows. “What’s it matter to you?”

Rebecca shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“We were at a meeting,” he said.

“What kind of meeting?” she asked.

“A business meeting.”

“Maybe next time, I’ll go with you,” she suggested, keeping her tone passive.

Nevada laughed. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“What makes you think you could stop me?”

He laughed again.

“You won’t tell me where you went, so you might as well show me,” she said.

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?”

Rebecca didn’t acknowledge his comment. “Was it very important? I mean it had to be, seeing as you were gone so early in the morning.”

“What do you think?”

“I just told you.”

Nevada gestured to the half finished omelet in front of Rebecca. “Are you gonna finish that?”

Rebecca slid her plate over to him. “I want to go with you next time.”

He didn’t answer her, just put out his cigarette on the ashtray in the middle of the table and took a bite of the food in front of him. “This is really good,” he commented. “Not enough chilies, though.”

“I refuse to live here like I don’t know what’s going on. I want in on the action. I want to know what’s going on.”

After another large bite, he got up. “Do we have any hot sauce?” He asked, his mouth full. He walked to the fridge and started rooting around.

Rebecca got up and followed him. “Don’t you get it, Nevada?” she said aggressively. “I will not do nothing. I want in and I will have in, whether you like it or not.”

Sauce in hand, he turned and leaned against the refrigerator door. “You’re hot when you’re mad,” he said, smirking.

“I expect to be told about the next meeting.”

He took a step towards her. “As you wish, _mami_.”

Rebecca had to resist the urge to punch him in his smug face. She knew what he was capable of and she did not want to get on the bad wave with him. Instead, she turned and returned to her seat at the table. Chuckling, Nevada sat down and poured a pile of the sauce on his plate. “You need to control your anger,” he said. “It could get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’ve survived so far,” she replied.

“Hm. So you have.” He fell silent for a few moments. For a while, there was no sound except for the scraping of utensils against his plate and chewing. Rebecca stared at him, but he purposely refused to look at her, but just as she was about to give up and go to her room, he spoke. “Confess something to me,” he said.

“What?”

“So I know I can trust you,” Nevada said. “I can’t have you in my group if I don’t have anything on you. You know the protocol, I assume.”

Rebecca tried to contain the smile on her face. This was a tactic used in most gangs when new members are recruited: get dirt on the new guy that you can use as leverage. Everyone has to confess to a major crime they’ve committed, something that would lead to a sentence to prison, and only then can they work for the leader. This way, if someone goes to the cops, then payback is easy. She even had a story prepared: a real murder that had been left unsolved, committed in the same neighbourhood that the Rosas lived in. It was perfect.

Nevada took off after her confession, and Rebecca returned to her room. She unpacked her luggage, hiding the evidence of her real identity, and lay on the bed. She felt optimistic until she heard voices outside her window. She looked out in time to see Nevada, Pablo, and Isaac (Rafael was still inside with Carlos) getting into the car while carrying briefcases.

She frowned. Maybe it was too early to celebrate. She had been trying to come across as a leader type to make Nevada take her seriously, but that didn’t seem to be working out for her. In fact, now he had something on her—or rather, on Lali—and she still knew nothing about what he was up to.

Maybe it was time for a change in tactics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE let me know what you guys think of the interactions between Rebecca and Nevada! I have been trying to make it very tense but idk how it's coming across. I plan on going a lot further in the third chapter, though. 
> 
> You can expect smut by chapter four. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated <3


	3. New Strategies

Rebecca played absentmindedly with the hem on the dress she wore. It was frilly and flirty and cut off just above her knee, giving her more than enough space around her thigh for the garter holster she wore that conveniently hid her gun from sight. She watched Nevada from across the room but he didn’t look at her except for the occasional fleeting glance tossed her way as his eyes scanned the room. He was too busy to deal with her and she respected that. Or at least, she pretended to.

It had been three days since she had confessed her crime to him and he was still keeping her in the dark about everything that was happening. She had hoped that his taking such information from her meant she would start working for him. That’s usually how it goes. Confession is an initiation and insurance but so far, nothing. Nevada and his men kept doing their shit without Rebecca and she was in turn getting no information whatsoever.

The aggressive approach had been good for getting Nevada to let her stay in his house and to convince him of her story, but it wasn’t working when it came to getting what she wanted. So instead, Rebecca had begun to play nice. She hadn’t been questioning or confronting him about anything. She acted like she was interested in him rather than what he was up to. She offered to get him something when she got up to go to the kitchen. She wanted to make him think that she was not just looking for information. She was even wearing dresses to look more innocent. The way she saw it, the sweeter she behaves, the more Nevada begins to think of her as a person, not just a Rosa, and so not just a rival gang member.

And so, Rebecca sat, watching Nevada, Pablo, Isaac, and Rafi watch soccer (though she had to be careful to call it football). Nevada would catch her eye every once in a while but his expression remained cold regardless of how she responded to the eye contact. When he got up to go to the kitchen, Rebecca took the opportunity to speak to him one on one, something that she had not been able to do since that talk at the kitchen table. She counted to ten and then walked to the kitchen.

“Hey, Nevada,” she said in her flirtiest voice.

Nevada grunted in response as he dug through the refrigerator.

“Some game, huh?”

He didn’t answer her. He pulled out miscellaneous foods from the fridge and placed them on the counter.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said, approaching him. “It’s a nice surprise.” She turned and leaned against the counter to watch him.

“I’m just making a sandwich,” he muttered. “Keep your pants on.”

She smirked. “I’m not wearing pants.”

He shot her an unimpressed glare and resumed his sandwich making.

Rebecca, not faltered by his disinterest, leaned her elbows on the counter behind her and eyed him slowly. He was wearing a pair of worn-out jeans that hung loosely at his waist with a white t-shirt on top, which had been clean and crisp at the beginning of the day but it was the dog days of summer and dampness pooled around the collar and under the arms. He was wearing a leather jacket earlier but that had been shed. His hair was slicked back, as usual, but coming apart, the gel having trouble holding up under the moisture from Nevada’s sweat and the humidity. Beads of sweat formed on the tip of his nose and along his jaw.

She wanted to make him uncomfortable with how comfortable she was around him. She wanted to show him that she was not afraid of him, and she could show him by other ways than just being confrontational. “So, I’m curious,” Rebecca said slowly. “How much effort do you really put into looking like a badass all the time? I mean, you couldn’t possibly just wear what you wear without thinking about what would make you look cool and powerful, right?”

He looked at her from the corner of his eye but didn’t respond.

“I mean, despite how chill this look is, your shirt’s still Calvin Klein. And your jeans are still Levi’s,” she said, tipping her head to one side. “I don’t know what your shoes are made of but I’m sure they cost more than the rest of your outfit put together. As in, what a normal person makes in a month. Maybe two.”

Finishing with the construction of his sandwich, Nevada picked it up and took a large bite, the lettuce crunching loudly between his teeth as he chewed.

Rebecca hummed, not wanting to back down. “Before seeing you for myself, I imagined you in a lot of fur, to be honest,” she said. “Fur and chains. But you do have chains. Maybe some leopard prints and big, fat scarves. I don’t know. You’d probably look more like a pimp than a drug kingpin then.” She paused for a moment. “Or are you both?”

The look he shot her almost surprised her.

“Okay, okay!” she said, her hands up. “Sorry I asked. I’m just interested, is all. I find it interesting.”

Nevada took a bite before responding. “You know what I find interesting?” He finally said, his mouth still full. “Is that not a single person that I’ve talked to has a clue who Lali Rosa is.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You asked around about me?” she asked flirtatiously. When Nevada met her eyes with a cold gaze, she shrugged. “You hadn’t heard of me. What makes you think anyone else would have?” When she saw he still wasn’t satisfied with her answer, she rolled her eyes and stood up straight. “I was seven,” she said. “Picture that. Picture a seven-year-old girl, crying because she saw her mother flattened against asphalt. Wouldn’t _you_ want to protect her, too?”

He turned his head away from her and resumed eating.

“Mario took us in. Andro was sixteen so he wasn’t exactly innocent by then and he already knew what Mario got up to. The both of them wanted to shelter me, protect me,” she took a step forward. “You know what would happen if people knew who I was. Do you think I would still be standing, still be _breathing_ if rival gangs or desperate clients knew I was Mario’s little cousin? Someone he loved and wanted to keep from danger?”

Nevada still didn’t speak, just kept eating and chewing on that loud as fuck lettuce.

“I grew up. I stopped being a scared little girl,” Rebecca said. “I made them see what I was capable of. They knew I didn’t need protection but they kept it up anyway. And that’s when we realized what I could be to them.”

He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Their secret weapon,” whispered Rebecca. “That’s how I’m still a free woman while my brother rots in jail and Mario lives it up in whatever land he pissed off to.”

When she finished speaking, Nevada dropped his half-eaten sandwich and turned towards her. “Protection, huh?” he said, stalking towards Rebecca.

“ _Si_.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” He said, mocking. His mouth was still full as he nodded in feigned thought. “But you should know, _pequeña_ , that you no longer have that insurance policy.”

Rebecca stepped back as he stepped forward, but she let him know that it was not because she was afraid of him by keeping her head up and her gaze steady.

“You were hidden away for safety but you don’t have that anymore, do you?”

Rebecca cursed internally when her back hit the wall.

“You don’t have anything anymore, now, do you, _niña_?” he taunted as he stepped closer and closer. His voice was low and breathy and he ran his tongue over his teeth before continuing. “Other than me, that is.”

Rebecca tried not to look too repulsed when he took her by the waist, squeezing her skin tightly under his solid grip and pressing his hips firmly against her. Instead, she lowered her gaze and parted her lips, ready to play along. Maybe doing this would be a step in the right direction…

Or maybe it’ll ruin everything. A jolt of panic ran through Rebecca when Nevada’s hand wandered under her dress and up her thigh. “Wait—”

Before she could finish, Nevada’s hand wrapped around the handle of her gun, pulling it out in one swift movement. Rebecca’s eyes flew to his face to see his reaction, but he seemed completely unsurprised and passive. He toyed with the gun, the small device looking absolutely minuscule in his large hands. Smirking, his eyes met Rebecca’s. “Did you think I wouldn’t know that you had a gun on you?” He sneered.

Rebecca swallowed and her heart sped up. She had no idea where this was going to go. She watched as Nevada checked the cartridge, his eyebrows rising when he discovered that the gun was fully loaded. He turned off the safety and tossed it from one hand to the other. “You, uh… you always have it wrapped around your thigh like a garter like that?” he asked, mocking, basking in her discomfort. “That’s…pretty fucking hot.”

Before she could even open her mouth to respond, Nevada raised the gun to her throat, pressing the barrel hard against the soft flesh under her jaw. Rebecca willed herself not to flinch. Along with the cool metal of the short barrel, Nevada’s hot fingers poked against her throat, his knuckles pressed hard against her windpipe, causing a strange tickling sensation. She raised her eyes to meet his, her stare cold, and he returned it fully, the amusement completely gone.

“You don’t think I would do it?” he asked so quietly the Rebecca had to strain to hear it.

_No, I know you would._

He moved the gun, laying it flat against her skin and moving it down until it was on her left breast. He pressed against her skin, his fingers digging into the exposed flesh over her low-cut dress. “Oh,” he said when he felt her pounding heart. “Oh, you know that I would.”

Rebecca knew that she could fight him. Four moves and Nevada’s neck would be between her knees.  Three twists of her hand and the gun would be in her possession. Two moves and he’d be knocked out on the floor, cold. One move and he’d be dead.

But she didn’t move. This was not the right time and place. If she blew her cover now, she would have absolutely nothing. She stayed rooted in her spot, unmoving as Nevada pressed her face between the fingers and thumb of his free hand, squeezing her cheeks hard before cupping her jaw in his massive hand. He forced her mouth open with thumb, pushing the tip between her lips and into the space between her teeth and twisting to create space. He pushed two other fingers in, forcing her small mouth to open wide under the pressure. He smirked tauntingly at her angry expression before moving his other hands to press the barrel of his gun into her mouth, pushing it in against her tongue, along with the knuckles of his first two fingers. Once inside, he moved the gun around her mouth slowly, up, down, and side to side. “If I angle this properly, you won’t even die,” he taunted, moving it so the barrel pointed to the roof of her mouth. “I could easily just lobotomize you and then I won’t have to deal with your shit personality,” he said. “But then I’d have to say goodbye to your pretty little face and I haven’t decided if that’s worth it just yet.”

Rebecca studied his face as he moved the barrel to point at her cheek. “A blow like this won’t leave any damage, really,” he said. “But if I angle this down, then you could kiss your tongue goodbye.” He chuckled at that. “I’d love for you to just stop talking, but I can also think up so, so many other ways you could use that tongue of yours.”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at him. She refused to show him the fear he so eagerly was looking for.

“But of course, I could just kill you,” he said, adjusting the gun so it pointed at the back of her throat. “Easy. Quick. Mostly painless, but a little messy. But that can be taken care of.”

Rebecca looked straight into his eyes as ran the tip of her tongue slowly over his knuckles and around the hot metal of the barrel, making sure he knew of her movements. His smile disappeared and he brought his face inches away from hers. “Do you really think I wouldn’t blow your brains against the fucking kitchen wall?” He hissed, then paused to watch her pupils constrict in disgust as she kept her eyes on his. “No, no, no,” he said. “You know that I would.”

With that, Nevada took a large step back, stretching his arm to lock at the elbow. He widened his stance, bracing himself for the recoil and moved his finger to rest firmly on the trigger. Maintaining eye contact, Nevada waited, watching her closely. He waited for her to say something, to beg him not to shoot her, voice muffled and incoherent against the metal still in her mouth, spit spilling out the corners of her mouth. He waited for her legs to start shaking and her knees to go weak as she struggled to keep herself up without leaning all her weight against the wall. He waited for tears to spill from her eyes and snot to drip down her nose and her sobs to break against the loaded gun so he could feel the vibrations through his hand.

But she did none of those things. In fact, she did something he would never have expected. She calmed down.

Her eyes glazed over and her breathing grew more and more deep, changing from the short pants from before. Nevada could no longer feel the vibrations of her racing pulse through her tongue. Her muscles relaxed, her shoulders dropping, her hands unclenching, and the tension in her neck disappearing. She closed her eyes and, after a moment of stillness from both of them, she ran the pad of her tongue over his fingers once again. The clicking sound of her tongue against his salty flesh loud enough that even Nevada heard it.

Honestly, it was enough to send a wave of arousal to his cock, but he ignored that. His arm relaxed. Sensing the change in tension, Rebecca opened her eyes, watching him closely as he pulled the XR45-S from her mouth, turned the safety on, and stepped closer to her. He stood much closer to her than was necessary to put her gun back into the holster, dragging his fingers slowly over the skin of her thighs as he replaced it.

He watched Rebecca, who in turn met his gaze steadily. She could feel his breath against her lips and could smell the mayonnaise when he spoke. “You better watch yourself, _chica_ ,” he murmured. “A Rosa means nothing here.”

Rebecca took a deep breath through her nose as Nevada turned away from her and returned to his sandwich. She didn’t say anything to him. All she knew was that she wanted him locked away for a very, _very_ long time.

 _And I will make sure that happens,_ she thought to herself as she turned and walked out of the kitchen. Instead of heading to her bedroom as she had been doing before, she walked to the front door. She wanted some air, and to clear her head. There was no reason for her to be confined to this godforsaken house. She walked through the living room, passed the three large men and ignored their shouts of protest as she crossed in front of the television. She walked out the front door, letting it slam behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked the chapter, and I hope it wasn't too out-there!!! As always, I would love to hear feedback :) 
> 
> Si – yes  
> pequeña – little one  
> niña – little girl  
> chica – girl


	4. Getting Comfortable

The government has to keep track of what people own. A bank teller once stole millions of dollars simply by hacking the system and arranging for every thousandth of every transaction to be transferred to his bank account. In a given transaction, that’s probably about $0.002. But when it’s millions of transactions everyday, the money adds up. He would have been impossible to catch if he hadn’t slipped up. And what was his grand mistake? He bought a Ferrari. A fucking _Ferrari._ You’ve got to question how a man who makes $13 per hour could afford to live large like that.

Nevada Ramirez didn’t pay taxes. He was not registered anywhere. The police had no record of him working anywhere, and they had no record of his father working anywhere. His grandfather, however, moved to New York when he was young and worked at a carwash for twenty years until he abruptly quit and suddenly started getting driven around in a town car while wearing $300 pants. But no matter how hard the police cracked down, they couldn’t catch him. It was hard when there were so many people involved yet somehow there was no one to narrow it down to. There were no computers, no databases, no receipts, and no records. Everything, _everything_ , was done through word of mouth. That’s why these people were so fucking hard to catch. By now, there must be documents and records. There is no way there couldn’t be, considering how much their demographic has spread through the Heights. But papers are easily burned, not that the NYPD had ever gotten close enough for that to happen.

Rebecca fussed with her hair over and over, trying to figure out a way to tie it up without an actual hair tie. It was hot and she was mad and she left the house without thinking about anything that she might need. All she had with her was her gun strapped to her thigh, still warm and damp from when it had been in her mouth. Despite the air conditioning, it had still been hot in the house so when she left, she hadn’t expected it to be so much worse.

The inside of Nevada’s home was not at all like the outside. Indoors, there was no sign of rot, and there was no peeling paint. It was filled with leather and wide screens and shining surfaces and Rebecca felt like she had travelled into the future somehow. There was a fish tank that took up the majority of a wall and the ceiling of the living room had been knocked down so that it could be open to above. It was the most incredible house she had ever seen. It was too bad that it was all wasted on him.

Rebecca turned at the corner of the street, away from the townhouses that lined the street Nevada lived on and took ten steps before stopped and turning. She waited, her arms crossed. About a minute passed before Isaac came jogging around the corner behind her. He froze when he saw her, a bit taken aback that she was expecting him.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Like I wouldn’t know that he’d have me followed,” she said. “Now, come on.”

She motioned with her head for him to start following her but he stopped her before she turned. “No, I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

She glared at him. “I know,” she said. “But I know that you’re following me so even if I _did_ want to do something fishy, which I _don’t,_ I wouldn’t because I know you would see. So instead of the two of us wandering aimlessly around the Heights ten feet away from each other, how about you join me and it wouldn’t be so fucking pathetic.”

Isaac seemed to take offense to the last word, but he did seem to sway from his spot. “What are you up to, anyway?” he asked, stepping towards her.

“I’m just going for a walk to cool down,” she said, dropping her arms and turning away. “Your boss is a fucking asshole.”

Isaac caught up to her as she started walking away. “He’s your boss, too, you know,” he muttered.

“Not yet, he’s not.”

“He will be, though,” said Isaac. “There’s no way he’d let you live in that house unless there was something in it for him.”

“I know,” said Rebecca. “But he’s still not my fucking boss.”

They stayed out for four hours. It would have been longer but Isaac was phoned and told to get back to the house with Rebecca, whether she wanted to or not. She had laughed after he had hung up, even though Isaac was supporting a frown. “Don’t look so worried,” she said. “It’s not like he’s going to punish you for not making me miserable.”

“You clearly don’t know him,” Isaac replied, standing and stretching out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, come on! At least finish your drink!”

“ _No._ Let’s go.”

Rebecca took a long sip of her iced coffee and stood slowly, languidly stretching her arms over her head and bending a bit to the side. The heat had died down considerably and the bugs were starting to crowd the air. The Sun slung low in the sky but still shone at them from the spaces between the buildings. “Do you think he wants to make me miserable and then make sure everyone helps him with that?” she asked as she kicked aside her chair and took Isaac’s hand.

He seemed surprised when she intertwined her fingers with his. “What are you doing?” he asked, pulling his hand from hers.

“What? You held out your hand,” Rebecca shrugged, letting her arm drop.

“That was to let you know we were leaving,” he muttered as he begun to walk away from the café.

Rebecca finished off the rest of her coffee and ran after him, shaking a mosquito from her arm as she stepped out from the shade of the patio. “Are you afraid Nevada would actually think you had fun while you stalked me for him?” She asked him, but he didn’t reply so she groaned. “Look, I had fun with you. Which was a pleasant surprise, but don’t pretend you hated it. I mean, you bought me coffee and made me laugh so hard I started tearing up.”

He shot her a sideways glance and didn’t reply.

“Come on, Isaac,” she cooed, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I won’t tell anyone that we actually like each other. We can be friends in secret.”

At that, he cracked a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” he said.

“I know,” Rebecca replied.

The two of them walked together in a comfortable silence and Rebecca wondered the entire way home how exactly he got mixed up with all of this. He sure as hell didn’t seem like the type to look for trouble. No, he wasn’t a good man, but _shit,_ he didn’t seem like a convict. Maybe she’ll ask him one day.

It really had surprised her that she got on well with him, but she was thankful for it. He had helped her to calm down much faster than she would normally have, and he didn’t even try to make her feel better. It was in line with her plan to win over Nevada’s men as well as Nevada himself, but she hadn’t thought it would be so easy. She looked at Isaac as he walked. He was large, but he seemed to try not to take up a lot of space and he seemed almost kind. It was strange to see, especially since his face hardened whenever he was around Nevada. Maybe he wasn’t as invested in the business as the rest of them.

Maybe Rebecca could use that to her advantage.

Nevada was not alone but he was waiting for them. He sat in his chair, legs spread and drink in hand, and he didn’t turn his head when they entered the living room. Instead, he motioned Pablo with his fingers towards Rebecca. He approached her, his expression hard and his arms outstretched to grab her.

She took a step back. “I’ll go where you want but don’t touch me.” She said forcefully.

There were six new faces in the room, and they all simultaneously turned their head to her. Pablo stopped in his tracks but before he could say anything, Nevada stood. “Didn’t I tell you to watch yourself?” he asked, approaching her.

Rebecca didn’t reply but just watched him. He seemed to be unreasonably angry and it dawned on her that the issue was much bigger than her disappearing with Isaac for a few hours. So when he grabbed her by her elbow and shoved her towards Pablo, she let him, jerking from the rough jolt and tripping over her flimsy flip-flops, and Pablo grabbed her by the arms and lead her into the basement.

“Don’t worry,” Pablo said as he shoved her into the dark space. Rebecca tripped down a handful of steps but was able to grab onto the railing before she fell. She turned to the man standing in the doorway. “We’ll only be gone a few hours.” His smile was so slimy that Rebecca suddenly felt the need to shower. Thrice. She stared at him as he ran his hand through his long hair and closed the door to the basement, leaving her alone. Seconds later, she heard something being propped against the door. She ran to check and, sure enough, Pablo had blocked the door. She heard him chuckling as he walked away.

_Fuck._

Rebecca slowly made her way down the stairs and turned on the light. Thankfully, the basement was finished and she wasn’t trapped in a space reminiscent of a dungeon. There were clothes tossed everywhere and a mattress at one corner. Cigarette butts littered the floor and Rebecca caught a much stronger whiff of that stench that had been in her room.

Speaking of which, why didn’t they just lock her in her bedroom instead of shoving her into the basement? She sat at the last step and buried her face in her hands. Were they going to kill her? Rebecca had been trying to mentally prepare herself for that, but she had hoped to at least get a month in before they did her in.

 _I need to distract myself. No good can come from imagining what they could do._ She sat back and thought about her job, her life, and her parents. She thought about her friends and the small town in which she grew up until, finally, her mind landed on Diego.

He’d been her friend. He had showed her the ropes when she was transferred to his division. He was also the only other Latino that she knew in the force. They used to play baseball together and she would kick his ass at pool. His smile would always light up the room and his laugh filled the room.

She was in love with him long before he kissed her for the first time.

They never did date. They fucked, but they didn’t date. The first time they did it was when they were both out drinking with other colleagues. When the late night turned into the wee hours of the morning, they shared a cab to her home, stumbling into the apartment, all elbows and knees. They had fallen into her bed and started going at it still half-dressed, fucking like animals in the dark room. He had screamed that he loved her when he came and he had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. They had avoided each other for weeks afterwards.

Soon enough, they became friends again. There was the occasional slip-up—a kiss, a grope, a bang—but they were okay for the most part.

The last time they did it, he showed up to her apartment at two in the morning, smelling like cigarettes and sadness. She didn’t say anything to him then, just took him into her arms and let him bury his face in the curve of her neck as he thrust deeply into her. There were no words. Only the whimpers as they made love slowly in her bed. He left without saying goodbye but they both knew that that was what the night was meant to be.

Seven months later, Nevada shot a hole through his head and got one of his men to take the blame. It was Nevada’s gun and Nevada’s fingerprints and Nevada’s bullets, but since there were no witnesses and only one person that took the blame, Nevada stayed free. Three years later, he was still walking around like he owned the city and Diego’s body was completely decomposed.

As worried as she had been, she never thought that she would lose him. He had been her best friend and it had taken so long for her to get out of her shell again. But that was mostly because it had taken that long for people to stop treating her like she was broken.

It had taken awhile for her to convince her boss that her wanting to go undercover was not about vengeance. _Fuck_ vengeance. She had wanted Nevada behind bars long before what he did to Diego. She sure as hell wasn’t about to let what had happened slow her down or cloud her judgment. She was the best person for the job three years ago and she was still the best person for the job. Everyone knew it and she wasn’t about to let anyone stop her.

Although, as strong as she liked to believe that she was, Rebecca still shook when she thought about what they might do to her. She still had her gun strapped to her thigh and she still knew self-defence well enough to kill a man with her hands in under a minute. That didn’t stop her from worrying. Biting her lip, she glanced over her shoulder at the basement door. Closed and barricaded. No sign of life behind it. Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall beside her. 

The door didn’t open for another five hours, but when it had, Nevada and Pablo were on the other side. Rebecca rolled her head to the side and forced her eyes open as Nevada lead her out of the basement and towards her bedroom, leaving Pablo in the basement. He had grabbed her by her bicep and pulled her roughly off the floor, ignoring that she was asleep as he pulled her up the stairs and through the house. “You must be hungry, huh, _cariño_?” he asked when they reached the kitchen.

It was well past midnight and Rebecca wanted nothing but to sleep and she let him know that.

Nevada’s hand travelled from her arm to her head. She took a sharp intake of breath when he balled her hair into his fist. “Not just yet,” he sneered. “I want to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, I know it's not exactly the smut I told you guys about, but the chapter was getting really, really long so I cut it short. Hope you guys enjoyed it, anyway! Comments are always appreciated:)


	5. Power Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et, voila~~~  
> This was very fun to write... Hope you guys like reading it just as much!!

They sat across the kitchen table. They reflected each other in the way they sat back, relaxed, and their expressions were both neutral. Rebecca was now fully awake and aware of her surroundings, unlike before. She waiting for Nevada to speak, though it was awhile before he did.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to break the door down,” he said finally, tracing small circles on the table’s surface. He didn’t look at her as he spoke.

Rebecca shrugged. “I could have. Easily,” she stated. “Just didn’t feel up to it, honestly.” It was true. By that point, she had been exhausted from all that had happened that day. She was exhausted now, but there was no way Nevada would let her leave if she told him so. If anything, he’d make it worse for her if she tried to get away by keeping her there longer.

He chuckled at her statement. “You really think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” he said, his eyes twinkling in the dim kitchen lighting.

“Not all that much hotter than you.”

He laughed louder.

“Where did you go?” Rebecca asked.

It took a moment for his laughs to die down. When they did, his sleazy smile still stayed glued on his face. “What’s it matter to you?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just curious about what exactly could have been so secretive and important that you felt you needed to lock me in the basement.” Rebecca leaned her elbows on the table. “Not even my own room, but the fucking _basement_.”

“We couldn’t lock you in your room,” Nevada answered nonchalantly, “because Juan was still going through it at the time.”

Rebecca’s head snapped up and she stared at him, suddenly furious. “ _Excuse me?!_ ”

“Juan Sanchez,” he offered as if it were some sort of explanation. “Good kid. Great for dirty work and spying,” he said, leaning farther back in his chair so that he balanced it on the two back legs.

“You went through my room?!”

“No shit. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Rebecca buried her face in her hands. Either they found her police badge or they didn’t. She had hidden it well, but she honestly couldn’t tell from the way Nevada was behaving.

“Don’t worry. Juan didn’t find anything worth notice. Except your…”

Rebecca looked at him through her fingers, panicking briefly before realizing that Nevada was staring at her cleavage, which was now very visible due to her slouching. Dropping her arms, she sat up straight and glared at him.

He smirked and lifted his gaze up from her chest and to her face again. “But that wasn’t entirely unexpected,” he added, finishing the thought.

Rebecca’s stomach lurched at the thought of all those men looking at her underwear, but she tried not to think about it too much. Instead, she tried to get the conversation back to where she needed it to be. “I’m never going to stop asking,” she murmured. “I’m never going to stop wondering. And I’m never going to give up. I want in, and I will have in.”

Nevada had expected her to say something like that. “You have to prove yourself trustworthy, cariño,” he said. “I can’t very well let you in and have you fuck us over.”

“You already have something over me,” she reminded him through gritted teeth. “Is that not enough to let me in? Doesn’t matter if I fuck you over because you can fuck me over right back.”

He smirked. “Or I could just fuck you,” he said.

Rebecca didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at Nevada, who in turn only looks more amused. “I don’t know, Lali,” he muses. “I don’t know if I believe what you told me. Rosas are exceptionally good liars.”

Rebecca scoffed. “That, we are,” she muttered, rubbing her bottom lip. She wondered if there would be anything she’ll be getting out of this talk. It sure didn’t seem like it.

“Is that your way of telling me what you told me wasn’t true?” asked Nevada, eyeing her closely.

“No, that’s me accepting your compliment.”

He looked as if he were about to respond, but instead of saying anything, he drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, staring.

“So, is that all, then?” Rebecca asked when he was silent for a minute.

“What?”

“You told me that you wanted to talk.”

“Right. No. That’s not all.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

He sat up suddenly. “Are you hungry?” he asked, his tone of voice changing and sounding completely phoney.

“No,” she stated, lying but not wanting to get off the subject.

“You haven’t eaten in hours, though. You must be at least a little hungry,” said Nevada. “Pablo probably has some food stashed around the basement, but you probably didn’t eat any of that. Good thing, too, because that man’s fucking disgusting.” He laughed at the last part.

“What do you want to talk about, Ramirez?”

He ignored her. “That’s one good thing about having you around. You’re not a complete pig like the boys.” He didn’t look at her as he tapped his finger on the table in front of him with each word he uttered. “You actually keep your shit in order and clean up your own mess. It’s good news for the housekeeper, I’ll tell you that.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Rebecca repeated.

“I’m not deaf,” he suddenly snapped, his voice low and threatening as he looked at her through his thick eyebrows.

She clenched her jaw and didn’t speak, and so Nevada continued.

“That,” he said. “ _That_ is what I want to talk about. You think you’re hot shit and you act like you own the place. You don’t.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “ _I do._ And it’ll do you good to remember that.”

“On second thought, I _am_ hungry.” Said Rebecca. She stood and walked to the fridge, opening it and digging around to find any food that might be left over.

“I don’t have any problem with ruining you,” Nevada said to her from the kitchen table. “A snap of my finger and you’ll be out on the street. I really don’t think you realize of appreciate all that I’ve done for you.”

Rebecca turned to him, holding a cold, half-eaten fajita in her hand. She leaned against the refrigerator door as she spoke. “You haven’t done all that much,” she said, shrugging. When he raised his eyebrow at her as a prompt, she continued. “I asked for a job and you gave me a room,” she said, taking a rather large bite of the fajita. “I already had a room and I won’t have problems finding a new one.”

Nevada tapped his fingers on the table. “Ah, determination like yours…” he mused, “It can be so… fucking annoying, don’t you think?”

“But so damn effective. Eventually you’ll give in,” she said, her mouth full. “Trust me. I know how to work with people like you.” With three more large bites, the wrap was done. Rebecca opened the fridge again. Grabbing a bottle of water, she took a handful of gulps and put it back to finish off tomorrow. “You’re as tough as Mario and I had him bending backwards for me,” she said, closing the door.

“And is that why you were left behind?”

She clenched her jaw at the comment. Both irritated and frustrated, Rebecca turned to answer him, only to have her reply get caught in her throat when she saw just how close Nevada was to her.

“You don’t call the shots here. I do,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “Your job is to do what _I_ want.”

Despite the dim lighting, Rebecca could see his eyes so clearly. There was something so dark inside them, something that she was far too familiar with, her job being what it was. “Does that mean that I am officially working for you?” she asked, her voice low to match his.

Nevada smirked. “Hm. Clever,” he said, stepping forward. “You’re funny.” He kept moving forward until Rebecca’s back was pressed against the refrigerator. He relished in the uneasiness that crossed her face. “Huh. This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he mocked, clutching her waist tightly in his hands and pressing his hips against hers. “Have we…been in this situation before?”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at him “My gun’s still strapped to my thigh if you’d like to play with it some more,” she muttered.

Neither of them broke eye contact as Nevada slowly traced his hand up her thigh, dragging his index finger along her skin until he reached her garter, but instead of taking the gun out, he undid the garter altogether and let it drop to the floor, the gun with it.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes in confusion, but managed to maintain eye contact as he replaced his hands on her skin, tracing them up under her skirt to rest on her hips, over the fabric of her cotton underwear. He looked at her for a moment, his thumbs tracing small arcs on her skin until finally, he leaned down and kissed her.

Rebecca recoiled, immediately, rolling her head away and causing it to smack against the fridge, but she didn’t care about the pain. She looked at Nevada. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her. Not after everything he said and did to her that day. “What are you doing?” she asked.

He only smirked. “What does it look like?” he asked her, reaching up with one hand to tightly grip her jaw.

Rebecca could only stare, her mind racing. She was still repulsed by the idea of having this man’s hands anywhere near her so this was just torture. However, she knew she had to do it. There was no way she wouldn’t. If it helped her get on the inside quicker, then she was willing to go as far as necessary.

She had known how far she was willing to go when she accepted this mission. There was no turning back now.

So when Nevada leaned down again to press his lips to hers, Rebecca gave in, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm as he did her. Their mouths opened and closed with each other in synchronization and their tongues danced with each other. Her stomach churned and she felt like she was going to faint but Rebecca sucked and bit and licked at his lips, mimicking his actions, and clutched onto Nevada’s shoulders as his hand travelled from her face to her chest, gripping her left breast tightly and kneading it. He startled a gasp from her when he twisted the nipple through her dress with the first two knuckles of his fingers. She felt the smile that had spread over his face when he got that reaction out of her.

Eventually, Nevada’s hands both were on her underwear once again. He hooked fingers into the hem and pulled it back. Nipping at her bottom lip, he let go, causing the elastic hem to snap against Rebecca’s hipbone. She started and he chuckled, leaning back to look down at his actions as he, once again, inserted his fingers into her panties, this time going deeper until he touched her sex.

And then he froze. Rebecca watched as he slowly raised his gaze to rest on her face. Despite the dim light, she saw total rage flash across his face and suddenly, she understood. This was about power, and it was about control. He wasn’t interested in Rebecca, nor did he want to pleasure her, nor did he even want to fuck her. All he wanted was to let her know that he could make her moan and beg and come for him. He wanted to show her that she was powerless beneath him, in ways other than just in the gang. But he couldn’t very well do that when she wasn’t even a little wet for him. Because the power he wants wasn’t in forcing her to do something she didn’t want to, but rather giving her something she wanted desperately from him.

She couldn’t have gotten off even if she wanted to. There were absolutely no juices down there to greet him and it made Nevada furious, but that rage only crossed his face for a second. In no time, his face fell back into the mocking expression he always flaunted around her. “Do I have to do all the work myself?” he asked her.

Rebecca looked up and him, keeping her face neutral, not letting him on to the panic that was bubbling underneath the surface. _Take deep breaths and think relaxing thoughts in order to keep your heartbeat steady._ The heartbeat was the most important thing. That’s how you cheat lie detector tests, and Rebecca applied it to the situation, just as she had done when he had held her at gunpoint. After a moment, she thought the best way to proceed was to play this like some sort of game. Smirking slightly at him, she replied, “Well, with all your big talk, I assumed you’d at least know what you were doing.”

Nevada’s nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath through his nose. “You’re lucky I like a challenge,” he murmured in a way that made Rebecca’s skin crawl. He lifted both his hands to her face, holding her head tightly between his hands and Rebecca dropped hers to her sides. “Don’t move,” he commanded.

Rebecca closed her eyes and took a deep breath to prepare herself for what he might do. She looked up at him, meeting his steady gaze with her own, letting him know silently that she was ready.

Nevada leaned down slowly, but he stopped just before his lips touched hers. He let his breath mingle with hers for a moment, satisfied when her breathing wavered.

She tried not to squirm. _Fuck, he’s going to take his time with this_. Rebecca kept her eyes open and her lips closed and unresponsive when he finally pressed his to hers. It was just a brush against hers at first, running his lips slowly over hers as if he just wanted to know how they felt, and once that was done, he placed a light kiss at the centre of her mouth, followed by one on her bottom lip, then one on her top lip.

He continued like this, slowly, _slowly,_ placing the tiniest kisses on every single part of her lips before finally catching her bottom lip between his, getting it just a bit wet before he pulled back by half an inch and licked his lips. The tip of his tongue touched Rebecca’s skin and she shivered. She had no idea why he was doing this, but _shit,_ it was making her stomach do backflips.

She braced her hands against the fridge behind her, pressing her palms and fingers hard against the cool steel as Nevada took her bottom lip between his again. This time, he sucked on it for a moment before letting her go with a small pop sound. Rebecca’s breath hitched as he started working his way slowly over her lips again, this time sucking and nipping and running his tongue over her skin. His hands dropped from her face, slowly stroking down her torso, over her waist and hips, until he dipped them under her dress once more.

“Open your mouth,” he muttered as he wrapped his hands around her thighs. She spread her legs slightly without prompting and opened her mouth for him.

He gave her parted lips the same attention, kissing and nipping and licking at them slowly and Rebecca’s breath grew heavier and heavier with the build-up. She found herself caring less and less about who it was that was doing this to her and focusing more on the ways his thumbs massaged her inner thighs. She sighed when he finally opened his mouth with hers, pressing his lips around hers and running his tongue over hers. Rebecca was more than aware of the fact that her underwear felt slick. She closed her eyes.

A minute passed of Nevada’s torturously slow kissing and his thumbs digging into her sensitive skin, and she felt her knees beginning to buckle. She lost her willpower and whimpered into his mouth. It was a small sound, but he heard it loud and clear.

Smirking, he pulled away from her. He met her clouded eyes with his clear ones as he wrapped his fingers around the hem of her panties, pulling them down over her hips until the fell down on their own accord. He pressed his fingers to her sex once again, this time satisfied when he was met with wetness. He gave her a wink before inserting a finger inside her, watching as her eyes and flushing face sobered up.

Rebecca’s eyes went wide when it registered that Nevada Ramirez had his finger inside of her. She clenched her teeth and met his mocking gaze with her cold stare. “Don’t look at me like that, cariño,” he purred. “We both know how you really feel. You made it more than clear to me.”

Rebecca briefly debated spitting in his face, but the thought was cut off when he inserted a second finger. She took in a short, sharp breath as his long, thick fingers penetrated her, stretching her pleasantly as he used his feet to push her legs farther apart.

Nevada moved his fingers slowly inside of her, rotating them and curling them as she squirmed. He watched her face, noticing how she tried but ultimately failed to keep her expression hard. When he pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed circles, her eyes dropped and her lips parted. He kept up his slow movements until her skin was completely flushed and she was panting. He could feel her heavy breaths against his neck and he savoured how she couldn’t bare to look at him as he did this to her.

He pulled his fingers out of her slowly, smirking at the sharp breath she let out. With his two wet fingers, he tilted her chin up so that she would look at him. He wanted her to know that he knew what he was doing to her. Rebecca’s eyes were wide and wet and her lips turned down at the corners. Nevada ran his thumb over her lips lightly, leaving the taste of her on her mouth before he dropped to his knees. He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and dipped his head under the skirt of her dress.

Rebecca pressed her hands harder against the refrigerator door as his stubble scratched at her inner thighs before he pressed his lips to her slit. He kissed and sucked at her labia for a minute before he parted her folds with his thumbs and thrust his tongue inside her. Rebecca’s stomach clenched and her knees buckled at the feeling, but she managed to keep her stature as Nevada ate her out enthusiastically, his tongue never resting as he sucked and lapped at her. He varied his licks, from running the tip of his tongue around her labia to running the pad over all of her folds to thrusting into her. Rebecca’s breath grew heavier and heavier and her heart pounded in her chest as he wrapped his hands around her hips. She couldn’t think clearly. Her mind felt flooded as he nuzzled his face against her, trying to create as much friction as possible in order to get her off.

She couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh when he moved his mouth to her clit. He lapped at it a handful of times before catching it between his lips, pressing down before he started sucking on it. Rebecca struggled to keep herself upright as the pleasure radiated throughout her body. She wrapped one hand around the side of the fridge and the other on the handle, holding tightly as she bit her lip to keep from moaning.

Nevada switched from licking and sucking at her clit to thrusting his tongue inside her for a few minutes before turning his full attention to her clit. Rebecca gasped when he plunged his fingers inside of her again, stroking and pushing against her walls as he curled them. Feeling her clench around him, he pushed her farther, entering a third finger and moving them fast inside her as he sucked harder on her clit. Soon, he felt her come around his fingers, her pussy clenching. He was disappointed when she wasn’t as loud as he had wanted her to be, but he pushed that aside and continued to lick at her as her back curved.

Rebecca rode out her orgasm against his hand, the heat of the pleasure radiating through her whole body. She bit her lip and covered her mouth with her hand, thankful that her dress kept Nevada from seeing just how hard she was coming undone.

When the aftershocks wore down and her mind cleared, she moved her leg off Nevada’s shoulder and to the floor. She used her knee to push him away from her by his shoulder. He chuckled and removed his fingers from her and she had to keep from sighing as he did. He pushed her dress off his head and held it in his hand, looking up at Rebecca as he used the fabric to wipe his hand and mouth dry. He stood.

His breaths were coming out in pants, just as hers, and he watched her slowly. Rebecca raised her gaze slowly until her eyes met his. Her stomach churned and she wanted nothing more than to push him away from her. She hated her traitorous body for unraveling under him the way it did. He smirked down at her as if he understood her thoughts. “Say my name,” he instructed.

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. His hair was messed and his neck was flushed. There was sweat lining his forehead and his lips were swollen. Sure, he had been the one to go down on her, but he still looked like he had just come. She closed her mouth. This was the moment then, wasn’t it? This was the moment she was to admit to him that he could control her. His name coming from her lips would be a surrender and he would always see her as being beneath him.

She wasn’t about to let that happen.

Rebecca watched him for a moment, then smirked. She moved forward, causing the confused Nevada to take a step back. Bending down, she picked up her garter holster from the floor by her feet. “Thanks for the talk,” she said nonchalantly, enjoying the anger she saw flash across Nevada’s face as she walked away from him, taking her gun with her but leaving her underwear on the kitchen floor.


	6. Lace and Leather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm very sorry this took so long. I had a lot of trouble with this chapter for some reason? I'm not sure how I feel about it but I hope you like it. It's the first in the work that is focused more on Nevada's perspective so it's written a bit differently than the others. I hope you like it!!
> 
> Proofreading's for nerds.

“Hey, boss!”

Nevada looked wearily over his shoulder. _This better be nothing_ , he thought. He was not in the mood to deal with any new problems.

Pablo approached him, coming down from the steps of the front door towards the road where Nevada stood. “The _puta_ wants to come along,” Pablo hissed.

Nevada turned and looked at Lali, who was standing at the front door. The Sun, though low in the evening sky, was still bright and made it difficult to see her face, even with the sunglasses he was wearing, but it was clear by the way she stood—her head high and arms crossed over her chest—that she was determined. He almost laughed out loud. This bitch was going to get herself killed in no time, and it wasn’t even going to be him that does it. “Let her,” he said simply, turning back to the town car _. She’ll learn soon enough._

Pablo, bewildered, started to protest but was silenced with a stern look. Grumbling to himself, he went to let Lali know.

Nevada climbed into the back of the large car and leaned his head against the seat. He sat with his arms spread out and legs stretched out in front of him. The leather seats ran along the back, extended up the side and across the front of the passengers’ compartment. The windows were tinted, blocking out the Sun which helped keep his head from throbbing. It had been a long few weeks and he needed to fucking _relax._ The problem, however, was that he couldn’t; not when he was in the middle of processing and organizing the biggest delivery of his entire fucking life. It was coming up from various locations scattered across Latin America, and moving, not to the States, but _through_ them. To Canada. Fucking _Canada._ Do Canadians even know what drugs are!?

Fuck.

 _Stop thinking about it and relax._ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco, seis…_ Irritated suddenly by his need to _count to fucking ten,_ he opened the door and stuck his head out. Why the fuck was everyone just lollygagging around like a bunch of numbskulls?! He barked at them all to hurry up, and from his voice, they all knew to come running. Except Lali. She strolled over, taking her sweet ass time. He would have told the driver to go on without her, but Isaac was holding the door for her.

He closed his eyes again. There was no need to get riled up now. Nevada made a motion with his hand, signalling the driver to pull onto the road. Pablo reached for the auxiliary cord and put on some music on full volume. He had taken it upon himself to control the music. Nevada knew, though his eyes were closed, that Pablo was on the seat adjacent to Nevada, leaning back and nodding his head obnoxiously to the music and Isaac was sitting across from Nevada, staring out the window and Rafi was next to Pablo, slouching and tapping away on his cellphone. It was what they always did. He wasn’t sure what Lali was doing, but he pictured her sulking. But then again, he always pictured her sulking. He opened an eye.

She wasn’t sulking. She seemed pretty content, actually. Her eyes closed and her feet up on the seat as she leaned her back against Isaac’s shoulder. What exactly was going on there? He took off his sunglasses and stared at her until she looked back at him. They stared at each other for a moment before Nevada spoke. “Thirsty?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows, a bit surprised by his apparent hospitality. “Yea,” she said simply.

The boys snickered and Nevada shushed them. Sometimes they forgot that they weren’t twelve-year-old boys. “I’d offer you something from the mini bar,” said Nevada, gesturing to the table lining one side of the car. “We have a great selection, but we’ll have more than enough drinks at the club.”

“Club?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

Nevada chuckled. “Sweetheart, life’s not all work and no play,” he said. “But don’t worry. You’re going to love this place.”

He had expected her to get angry, and to yell at him, and to remind him, as she so often does, of her past. But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she nodded and leaned back against Isaac. Seriously, _what_ was going on there? Nevada brushed it off and leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes again.

Ten minutes later, they were all sitting in VIP seats with Cubans between their teeth, having to yell to be heard. Lali wondered why they didn’t wait until the Sun had at least set before coming here, to which Nevada told her that it’s always dark in the club so why should it matter? He then informed her that he would not entertain any more of her questions. The stage in front of them was drenched in a red light and the girls were all dressed in black. The younger looking ones wore lace and the more experienced ones wore leather, but most of them didn’t wear anything.

They all sat back as the dancers did their work. Young women with oiled up skin and lean muscles. They dipped down low and swirled their hips and circled around their metal poles in seven-inch heels. They touched themselves and they touched each other, but they never touched the customers unless they paid. Nevada motioned one over with a flick of his fingers and put a $20 bill inside her thong. He sat back as she danced for him, moving her hips slowly and arching her back. She smacked his hand away when he reached for her skin and tortured him by touching the very place he had reached for and when the song ended, she gave him a flirtatious smile before strutting away to the next customer.

Nevada smiled and relaxed into the chairs cushions, sucking slowly on his cigar. He was already feeling better. He turned his head towards a flash he had seen from the corner of his eye—light reflecting off body jewellery—and caught sight of Lali getting a lap dance. He was surprised, but pleasantly so. And when the stripper leaned towards her to whisper something in Lali’s ear, her laugh jolted through him. It was like he felt the vibrations going through his body, even though he had hardly even heard the sound. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened but his dick only got harder.

Lali said something back to her. They had a short conversation before the stripper strutted over to Pablo, whispering something to him before leading him away towards the back. Nevada raised an eyebrow and looked over at Lali, but she didn’t notice him. She just sipped the beer in her hand and watched the dancers.

_Did this chica just help Pablo get lucky…?_

Jesus, he was really going to have to figure her out before she fucks him over. He kept watching her from the corner of his eye, not knowing what to think of her being so at ease at the strip club. Despite everything she kept telling him, his gut was telling him not to trust her but at the same time, he didn’t feel right kicking her out. He usually went with his instinct, but maybe the reason why he didn’t trust her was because she’s a Rosa, which then meant she was telling the truth about who she is. But then if she was telling the truth, then why—

 _No. Stop._ Nevada motioned over another girl. _Fuck_ , he was here to relax, not to worry about shit that didn’t matter in the long run. He held his cigar between his teeth and tucked a handful of singles into the stripper’s cleavage, making sure to cop a feel of her breasts held up by a shelf bra. She smiled gratefully at him as she swayed her hips and thrust out her chest. He moved his cigar from his mouth to his hand, inviting her to come closer, and she did, but despite being in the midst of a most beautiful view, Nevada found his eyes wandering towards Lali.

To his pleasant surprise, she was watching him. He winked at her before turning his attention back to the girl in front of him, dark thoughts filling his brain. Usually, he liked to pick up a naïve 20-something at a bar after his trips to the strip club. It took minutes for him to find a sure thing and lead her to the men’s room. The actual fun part lasted a lot longer, but it was the fun part so he didn’t usually mind, and the girls were always eager to please, knowing very well who he was and what he was capable of.

Funny. You’d think it’d be enough to send them running away screaming. But they never did. God bless their pretty little souls, but these girls were fascinated by him, and by his life. The prospect of being taken away by a man as dangerous as Nevada Ramirez and to be taken care of completely by him was a daydream they all had. A sugar daddy, a bodyguard, a thrilling story to tell their friends; that is what Nevada was to them and he could pick them out in a crowded room in a matter of seconds.

It wasn’t much trouble. But he was suddenly in the mood for something…different.

When he was ready to leave, Nevada texted some of his men to pick him up at the club, but to bring two cars. Twenty minutes later, he led his group out onto the street. The air was cool and the sky was a dark blue. Isaac opened the door for Nevada, but he shook his head. “You three go ahead,” he said. “Lali and I will be using the other car.” He ignored the questioning glance she shot him and walked over to the other, smaller car. The driver quickly hopped out to open the door for him and Nevada climbed in. “Are you coming or what?” he asked with one foot in the car.

“What if I don’t want to?” she said, not having moved from her spot.

“You seem to be under the impression that you have a choice in the matter,” he snarled and climbed into the seat.

Lali grimaced, looking from the empty seat Nevada had left for her to the driver, who stood still holding the door for her. The other car had already pulled away and she didn’t have any other choice. She climbed into the vehicle.

Nevada relaxed into his seat, stretching one arm over the back of the seat and behind her head, and motioned the driver to go. A few moments after they were on the road, Nevada spoke. “You seemed to enjoy yourself in there,” he noted.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she shrugged. “Beautiful women with beautiful bodies? What’s not to love?”

Nevada raised an eyebrow at her. “You into girls?” he asked.

Lali shrugged. “Sure.”

He snickered. “Right,” he grunted. Deciding not to beat around the bush, he lowered his hands to his belt. The quicker he got to this, the longer it’d last.

“What are you doing?” she asked when she noticed him pulling out his still half-hard dick from his pants.

Nevada shot her a wolfish smile as he laced his fingers through her hair. “You’re going to suck me off,” he replied simply.

Lali pushed his hand away from her head. “What makes you think I’m going to do that?”

He eyed her slowly. He pictured her breasts to be like the ones on the stripper with the tattoo on her ass. He pictured her ass to be like the stripper with the virgin skin and full lips. He pictured her to be an outie with stretchmarks across her hips (he didn’t trust women with completely flawless skin). When his eyes wandered up again to her face, Nevada smirked. “Because I know you want to,” he said.

Lali looked utterly disgusted, like she knew very well that he had just finished mentally undressing her, but didn’t mention that. “Try again.”

“Because you _will_. Whether you like it or not.”

“I won’t.”

“You _will.”_

She crossed her arms. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that,” she sneered.

Nevada ground his teeth. He was _not_ in the mood for this, but he couldn’t very well shove her face into his lap (no matter how appealing that sounded). No, he wanted her to do this willingly. “Don’t you think you’d ought to return the favour?” he asked smoothly.

“I never asked you for a favour,” she replied nonchalantly. “It was your ideas, after all. As far as I’m concerned, I’m the one who helped you out. “

“Please.” He scoffed. “You wanted it. I could see it in your whore eyes.”

She looked at him, unimpressed and mildly amused. “Is that why you spent fifteen minutes trying to get me wet?”

Nevada laughed and he felt the car jerk. Clearly Jose, the driver, was listening to everything being said, but that could wait. Right now, Lali needed to be put in her place.

“You think that was necessary?” He murmured, leaning towards her. “I could have had you begging on your knees for my cock in seconds if I wanted it. One right twist of my hand and you would have been on the floor pleading with me…” He slid closer to her as her lips twitched and he could see the disgust in her eyes, but he wasn’t discouraged. He brought his face centimetres away from hers. “Asking me to fuck you unconscious, begging me to come in your mouth, begging me to make you scream…” Grabbing her face between his fingers, Nevada forced her to look at him when she tried to turn away. He continued in the same, low voice as before. “I could have you drooling, stripping, and _dripping_ for me in a second. I could have you any time and anywhere I want.”

She didn’t flinch. “Then why can’t you have me right now?” she asked.

Anger flared in Nevada’s chest, shooting heat through his body. “I can,” he hissed. “Now, _suck.”_

He tried to force her head down but Lali shook out of his grip with ease. “ _No,_ ” she replied forcefully.

“I’m going to count to three—”

“Count to ten,” she cut off. “Or twenty. You can even beg me but I still won’t change my mind.”

“I’m not the one who does the begging,” said Nevada slowly.

“But you _were_ the one to get on your knees for me.”

His hands clenched into fists and he swore he literally saw red. “ _Para el carro_ ,” he commanded to Jose, who quickly pulled over. Any other circumstance and Nevada would have relished in the frown that shot across the bitch’s face, but he was too furious to care. He reached across her and threw open the door. “You can walk from here,” he spat.

Lali’s eyes flew to his face. “It’ll take hours,” she said, as if he cared.

“Good,” he snarled. “Gives you enough time to re-evaluate your actions. Maybe you’ll learn you need to watch how you speak to me.”

He watched as she swallowed, then stiffened her jaw. “Maybe,” she said, matching his tone. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”

With that, she hopped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. Out of the corner of his eye, Nevada saw her turn towards the car as if she had something to say, but the door was already closed and Jose was already driving away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Para el carro - stop the car


	7. To do What Must be Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ INNER CONFLICT (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
> 
> (enjoy<3)

_Lali, Lali, Lali. Oh my Eulalia._ Her mother’s voice rang through Rebecca’s head. _La-la-la-li. My belleza, my Lali._

Later it changed to Becky: _Becky, Becky, oh my Rebecca…_

It sounded like nails on a chalkboard, such a strong change from the beautiful lullaby it used to be. Rebecca would cry every time her mother sang it to her. She had begged her to go back to Lali, like before, but her mother would refuse.

_Por favor, mamá!_

_Your name is Rebecca, sweetheart._

Rebecca didn’t understand it, but suddenly, her parents didn’t speak to her in Spanish anymore. They stopped making her favourite foods and substituted them for roast beef, or grilled chicken. They didn’t dress her in the colourful dresses she loved so much and eventually, Rebecca began to accept it.

She hadn’t spoken to her parents in months. She called them once or twice a year to have a brief conversation with whoever picked up the phone. Diego had always said she was being harsh about it but she disagreed. They took away her culture without her consent. They had isolated her from an entire community. It wasn’t that awful of her to isolate herself from them.

_It’s funny you say that, Rebecca, because you’re the whitest Latina I’ve ever met._

_Well, at least I don’t look it._

Diego made her feel at home in many different ways but the biggest way was by welcoming Rebecca into his. She met his Spanish-speaking grandmother and broken English speaking parents and Rebecca learned through them more about her culture and the language. She attended family gatherings and ate delicious foods that reminded her of the brief time in her childhood when she was exposed to such things: that space between her birth and up to her fourth birthday. Before school started and her parents didn’t want her to be the odd one out in the Caucasian-filled small town school.

Though she went to see Diego’s family from time to time after his murder, things never did quite seem comfortable. She was a reminder of their son’s death to them and they were a reminder of his life to her. Except the occasional birthday phone call or the holiday cards, Rebecca fell out of the culture once again and this time for good.

Or so she thought.

It was strange. Nevada was out of the house all the time, always gone with his men, however Fernanda showed up a lot. Sometimes, she would come with a cousin or an aunt and sometimes an entire group of friends. Cousin Franky was a frequent visitor and a hoarder of foods and Nevada’s men from the neighbouring homes, all of which Nevada owned and rented out, would come over to hang out.

And they welcomed Rebecca into their lives like she was always supposed to be there.

They never spoke business to her, but then again, they didn’t speak business to anyone if they were off duty. So instead, Rebecca actually got to know more people and she learned more names and traditions. She hated how much she loved all of this. She wasn’t supposed to love this. _Fuck,_ she was supposed to loathe every part of it.

And yet the only part that she truly hated was Nevada. She hated everything about him. The way his hair was always slicked back in a way to make it look effortless. The way he sucked on his cigars and blew smoke into her face. The way he tilted his chin up when he spoke with her to make a point of looking down at her. The way his shoulders shook when he laughed.

She hated how he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip when he was concentrating and she hated how he consistently tried to touch her. She hated that he took pleasure when she moved away from him and that he took advantage when she didn’t.

She hated how her window faced the driveway and she would see him leave the house in his stupid fucking leather jacket and golden cross chain glinting from the Sun. God, she hated him. She fucking despised him.

Which made this so much more difficult. Rebecca didn’t want to be anywhere near him. She would never have anticipated just how much she couldn’t stand to be around him, but now, by the looks of it, she’ll have to do _so much more_ than just be around him.

To Nevada, she was some object. She was untrustworthy and a stranger and annoying and all that crap, but that could be changed once he started seeing her as a person, not just something he could look at. It was something that Rebecca had become accustomed to, given her line of work. Men don’t take women seriously, and it becomes clear just how extreme that is when a woman is in a position of authority.

Now, Rebecca usually didn’t give a shit whether or not a man respected her because she went about her business regardless. The chief of police, Brian, trusted her and that was literally all she needed to be able to get the right missions, and no one else could argue with her.

The problem was that Nevada was the boss in this situation. His trust and his respect was a _necessity_ before she could even think of starting her work, but all he wanted was for her to surrender to him. The only way he seemed to be able to do that was by convincing her to fuck him. It was interesting, really, because he does have power over her because he has power over everyone around her. But he knows that she wasn’t going to let him control her so he figured the best way to do that was by talking her into doing his bidding. By seducing her.

Rebecca couldn’t do that let him have that power. She needed to prove herself worthy. It was the only way. It had to happen and it had to happen fast. After all, that’s what Sarah told her.

Minutes after Nevada kicked her out of the car last week, Rebecca was picked up by a car and dropped off closer to home. The driver was a co-worker of hers.

“What’s taking so long, Rebecca? You’ve been in the field for two months,” she said, not looking over as she drove. She wasn’t dressed in uniform and she was driving her personal car.

“It’s not like I can hand over a list of every drug house in the state just yet, Sarah. These things take time,” replied Rebecca as she absentmindedly traced circles on the window.

“Brian says you need to step it up.” She paused. “We’re just worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be.”

Sarah didn’t hesitate. “Diego said the same thing.”

A tension filled the air, making it suddenly feel thin and uncomfortable. Rebecca ground her teeth and Sarah sighed.

“Are you done?” Rebecca asked, forcibly.

“I know it’s not something you want to hear, Becca, but—”

“You know what? I’m quite familiar with what happened to Diego, but thanks for the reminder,” she interrupted, leaning hear head against the seat and closing her eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to just drop me off at the next corner?”

“No.”

“But don’t you have somewhere to be?” Asked Rebecca.

“No, actually,” said Sarah slowly, “because I’m on duty.”

“What?”

“Brian expanded your case,” she explained. “He assigned a few officers, myself included, to keep an eye out for you. We’ve tracked your phone and we'll be going where you go while you're on the case.”

“You were following me?”

“Yes,” Sarah replied simply.

Rebecca groaned but said nothing. It was embarrassing to have someone watching you fail like this.

“We’ll be around to make sure you’re safe, and to call for backup if needed,” Sarah added.

“Yea, I get it,” sighed Rebecca. “So you saw me at that strip club.”

“Mhm.”

“So far, it’s been the only place they’ve actually let me go to,” she said. “But tell Brian to get it investigated. Some of the girls are working as prostitutes.”

“Huh. I’ll remember that,” she said. “Did one try to pick you up?”

Rebecca chuckled. “Yea, actually. She was pretty hot, too. I probably would have done it if I wasn't, you know, a cop.”

Sarah laughed.

A few minutes later, Sarah dropped Rebecca off two blocks away from Nevada’s house. It was empty when she walked in and Rebecca didn’t hear from anyone until the next day.

Now, staring out at the driveway with her forehead pressed against the warm glass, Rebecca watched Nevada talk to his sister as he held his nephew on his shoulders. They were laughing and joking, and it was one of the few times that she saw Nevada with his shoulders completely relaxed. Fernanda and Carlos both were at complete ease around him and it was baffling that he could actually ever be a person under his rough exterior. She always thought of him as being a monster wearing a human’s skin and calling it his body.

And yet, there they were. It was sickening.

Rebecca sighed and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths to calm herself down. She was starting to get desperate.

No, she couldn’t let Nevada force her to submit to him. But she _could_ go to him first. She could make that decision on her own, and after all was said and done, she could show him that he still didn’t own her.

Fuck, did that make any sense?!

Her fingers curled into the glass as her pulse pounded against her neck. Her stomach churned and lurched and her knees shook. She felt like a balloon was being inflated inside her chest, restricting the expansion of her lungs. Was it always this hard to breathe?! Shit. 

_Shit._

She was going to have to fuck him.


	8. No Rest for the Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short, a bit of a filler, not the best I could do, but I had no idea how else to go about it. Hope you like it anyway! The next one will make up for this!!!
> 
> And just for fun, I decided to upload my playlist for this fic onto 8tracks! You can listen to it [here](http://8tracks.com/shellyma/we-think-you-re-a-joke/) if you're interested!!

He tapped on the table in front of him repeatedly, but slowly. It was hard to resist yawning. He was running on two hours of sleep in the last three days. Three if the naps he took during drives counted. In any case, he wasn’t really sleeping during the night anymore, there was too much to do. Usually, he would sleep for a handful of hours some time after sunrise, hoping for a nice, relaxing sleep, but his line of work didn’t really allow him time to sleep properly, especially not recently. Rubbing his eyes with the fleshy part of his palms, he spoke. “How many?”

“Ten.”

“ _Fuck._ ” He leaned back against the cushion of the booth and groaned. “We have two months?”

“Seven weeks.”

“Hm.”

It was just past midnight and they were at a restaurant. A nice Argentinian place that served great ravioli. The provolone was to die for. The place itself closes at 9pm on weekdays, but Nevada was… _friendly_ with the owners.

He sat next to Mateo, his oldest and most trustworthy companion. He trusted him more than even the men he lived with. He was around when good ol’ papá Ramirez was only just showing Nevada the ropes and to this day, he accompanied Nevada to all business meetings and his opinion was most important to Nevada. He was a partner as well as an advisor, as well as a reminder of the man his father used to be: stoic and strong. The difference was that he was not one to stand in the spotlight. Nevada was the one who ran all operations and had the final say, but all of his employees knew that pissing off Mateo was just as big a mistake as pissing off Nevada. Maybe even bigger because Mateo, unlike Nevada, had a cool head.

Across from the two of them were men that Nevada trusted only through necessity. They were in on the mission and they had no choice but to team up with rivals from north of the heights. One of them was named Nicolás, but their names didn’t really matter. Their methods didn’t matter. Their inventory, their history, their security (okay, maybe their security mattered), their employees, none of it really mattered. All that mattered was how they were going to get the job done as quickly and as quietly as possible.

It was easy to smuggle drugs into the US, but it was much more difficult to get new, breakout drugs around the States. It was harder to get them into Canada. It was even harder to get a well-known druglord into Canada. Getting ten of them there was nearly impossible. And yet, here they were, discussing just how they were about to do just that.

Why anyone would want to leave the US was beyond him. All Nevada knew was that teaming up with these people would mean reaching up to 50% more customers without moving from his spot. There were no serious drug operations north of the border and, if all went all right, that would change.

The documents were completed. The stories were in place. All that was left was to actually get these men across the border, one at a time. The dates were set; the first man will be heading across in two months. Until then, there were billions of loose ends to tie up.  They needed to find every last shred of evidence and destroy it. This meant everything. All ten of the men were assuming different identities and no trace of their former life could exist. Not to mention the fake documents and passports needed to look completely and undeniably authentic and couldn’t contain anything that could be traced back to either gang.

Mateo and Nevada exchanged some more words with the men from the rival gang before standing.

“Is this our last meeting before we take action?” one of them asked.

“Let’s hope so,” answered Mateo in his thickly accented voice before turning to Nevada. “After you, son.”

Nevada kept his shoulders stiff and straight until they were down the stairs and out of view from anyone else. Only then did he let them drop and let his feet drag on the floor. “Fuck, I need some sleep,” he muttered, massaging the area under his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“We still need to get the documents from the warehouse, Nevada,” said Mateo.

“I know,” groaned Nevada, opening the door of the building and holding it for Mateo. “Are you sure we should hand them all over to those guys? They seem like complete _idiotas_ to me.”

“That’s why we destroy all evidence that traces to us first,” explained Mateo as they walked into the warm night. “If the _poli_ do get their hands on the papers, they still wouldn’t be able to touch us.”

Nevada grumbled incoherently in response before turning to Pablo and Isaac, who were standing guard outside the restaurant. “ _Vamanos_.”

By the time they dropped Mateo at his place and got to the warehouse, it was 2am and Nevada was feeling dizzy, but despite his exhaustion, his paranoia got the best of him. He knew what he needed and he checked all the contents three times before handing the duffel bag to Pablo to check as well.

“Well, boss,” said Pablo when they were all in the car heading back to their house. “Should we celebrate? We could go to some club and get friendly with some _chicas._ ”

Nevada didn’t bother raising his head from the window. “Shut the fuck up.”

 _Fuck_ , he couldn’t wait for this to be over. It had been the busiest damn year he’d had in a _very_ long time. Two months and he could go back to good, old-fashioned drug dealing.

Nevada took the bag upstairs with him. It was almost four in the morning and he felt like he was carrying an elephant up a mountain. As much as he hated thinking about it, he couldn’t deny that he was no longer 25. He was getting old and soon, he wouldn’t be able to do as much as he used to. _Fuck_ that.

He locked the contents of the duffel bag into the safe he kept in his room. There, they would stay for the foreseeable future. Too many people knew about the location of his warehouses and he wasn’t about to let that be his undoing.

Nevada locked up the safe. He removed his shirt, his belt, and his shoes. Leaving his jeans on, he fell into his bed, his body weighing a million pounds. Before he could even pull the sheets over his body, he was out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idiotas - idiots  
> Poli - police  
> Vamanos – Let’s go


	9. The First Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that I should wait a few days between uploading chapters but I can't help it!! I always want to post as soon as one is finished and I've been in the zone lately. Let's hope that stays :} Enjoy, and please let me know what you all think! <3

The sheets felt warm and damp under his bare stomach. He lifted his head from the pillow and rested his weight on his elbows, moaning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Shifting in his bed, inching towards the edge so he could reach his phone on the side table. It was 7:34pm. How was it that he had slept for 18 hours straight and he still felt like shit?

It was a small thought that brought his attention to her. A little voice in Nevada’s head asked him why it was that the sunlight hadn’t woken him up. The windows in his room were enormous and the summer made sure that it was still light out, but the curtains were drawn. Someone had drawn them, clearly in an effort to keep him from waking up while they were in here. Sighing, he turned over and leaned on his elbows. The dim light that made its way through the red curtains cast the room into a murky orange light that made it just light enough to be able to make out the figure inching towards his bathroom door. It froze when Nevada made eye contact.

He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t. “Are you going to just stand there or do you actually have a reason for being here?” He spat.

“You were out cold for a really long time, Nevada.”

“No business today. I thought I’d catch up on my beauty sleep,” grumbled Nevada, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“And you must have had a lot to do yesterday to be so tired today,” she said, leaning against the wall and crossing one leg in front of the other.

Nevada eyed her wearily. What exactly made her think she could make herself comfortable here? He’d ought to rip her throat out for even being in here. “Your strategies are so fucking obvious,” he said. “Do you really wonder why I don’t believe you’re a Rosa?”

Lali didn’t answer him, and from what he could make out, her expression remained neutral. “What’s in that?” she asked instead, gesturing with her head to the safe sitting inside his entertainment centre.

Nevada blinked. “Lollipops,” he said.

Lali smirked. “Can I have a lick?” she asked, tilting her head back.

He raised an eyebrow at her, recognizing the innuendo but not sure of how to respond to it. He could see her clearly now, his eyes having adjusted to the darkness. She was wearing old jeans and a loose crop top that showed her toned stomach. From the looks of how her nipples poked through the fabric of her shirt, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, causing Nevada to snap back to reality. He jumped off the bed when she started walking towards the safe.

“I don’t think so,” he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and yanking her away from the safe just before she reached it.

Lali only stepped closer to him. “But you said they’re just lollipops,” she cooed.

Was she… _flirting_ with him?! “You know what?” he said, stepping towards her, which caused her to step back. “I’m too busy to worry about what you do. And as you must have noticed, I see barely see you at all. But even still, I’m so fucking _sick_ of you. Do you have any fucking idea just how much of a piece of shit you are?”

The carelessness dissolved from her face, and the hostility that Nevada presumed was just bubbling underneath the surface as soon as their conversation started emerged. She raised her chin and watched him, her small mouth in a tight, straight line. “I assume you’re planning on telling me,” she said flatly.

Nevada had to resist the urge to smile. One of the only good things about talking to this _puta_ was getting to see her all riled up. It brought some humour into his day. When he stepped towards her, she didn’t move. “Do you still have your gun on you?” he asked, feigning interest. He patted her hip, smirking when he felt the bulge. “Ah, seems like it. I must say that I am hurt, _cariño_. You still feel the need to defend yourself around me?”

Lali raised an eyebrow. “You know what?” she said. She reached for the Boberg at her hip, watching as Nevada’s shoulders suddenly squared off and his arms stiffened. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” She held it loosely in her hand, holding it up beside her, doing small figure eights in the air.

Recovering quickly, Nevada smirked and turned from her. He walked over to his nightstand and pulled his gun from the top drawer. He beckoned Lali over. “Mine’s bigger.”

“Mhm…” said Lali, not even looking at the gun in his hand. “Almost like you’re compensating for something.”

His eyes darkened. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” he muttered.

“I already know.”

“Let’s make a deal,” he said, stepping closer to her, letting his gun-holding hand drop. “You get on your knees and I’ll show you.”

“Fine,” she mumbled, shrugging. When Nevada faltered, she rolled her eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Fuck are you on about?”

“I’ll suck you off,” Lali said plainly. “Let’s just get it over with so you’ll stop pestering me all the time. It’s getting pathetic.”

He barely thought about what he was doing when he hooked his fingers inside the hem of her pants and jerked her towards him. He ran his tongue over his lips slowly as he placed his gun on the table before taking hers and doing the same. “You think it’s that simple?” he asked, wrapping his hands around her hips so they rested on the back of her thighs, just under her ass.

“Isn’t it?” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Men think with their dicks.”

“And women think that’s how to control us,” Nevada added in an amused tone, watching her face, looking for the signs of disgust he’d grown so accustomed to. He dropped his hands. If she thought she would be in control, she was dreaming. “On your knees.”

Lali watched him for a moment before raising her hands to his pants. She slowly undid the button and zipper and slid a hand inside, rubbing him through the fabric of his boxers. She stroked up and down slowly but firmly until she felt him beginning to harder under her touch, but Nevada stopped her when she reached for the hem of his underwear.

“I said, on your knees,” he repeated, this time more authoritatively.

Shrugging her arm from his gip, she lowered his boxers until his member was free. “I don’t feel like it,” she said simply, pumping his dick. Moderate pressure, moderate speed.

Nevada ground his teeth, anger beginning to spread through his entire body. He balled his hands into fists and felt the muscles in his back tense up. “Do as I say, you _pinche puta._ ”

Lali raised her eyebrows at him but didn’t change her position. “Yes, Papi,” she said without moving, her eyes wide and her voice sultry.

A low growl ripped from Nevada’s chest as his anger got the better of him. Who did this bitch think she was?! Grabbing her harshly, he turned her and all but threw her down onto the bed. “I have ways of getting what I want,” he said, towering over her. He looked down at her as she lay on her back, her elbows propping her up, her legs dangling off the bed from the knee. He stepped forward, bringing his knee up to rest on the mattress between her thighs. “Strip,” he commanded.

She looked at him for a moment. Her hair a mess of waves surrounding her face, her chest rising and falling rapidly, causing the fabric of her shirt to ride up ( _definitely_ no bra under there). Her fingers tangled in the sheets and her eyes daring him to touch her. She rubbed her bare feet against Nevada’s legs, reminding him that he was still partially dressed, before pulling her shirt off over her head.

Nevada watched the movements of her breasts as he dropped his pants and his underwear. He stroked himself lightly and slowly as Lali lifted her hips in order to remove her pants. Her pants were loose around her waist and she didn’t need to undo the zipper, but she did. She lifted her hips and slid the jeans down, letting them hang off one foot before letting them drop. Nevada looked up her long legs in admiration, moving up slowly until he noticed that she had left her underwear on still.

It was a red thong.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

She planned this. God fucking _damn it_ , how could he have been so stupid as to not see it?! He didn’t know why, and he didn’t know what she was hoping to accomplish, but he should have realized. She was getting him all riled up and angry on purpose.

 _I fucking knew this whore wasn’t trustworthy_.

Well, shit. He couldn’t very well back out now. And why would he? His dick was up and her legs were spread. And now that he knew she was using him, he could use her right back. He had no problem showing her who’s really in control.

Nevada watched her carefully as he pulled her underwear off. As soon as she was completely bare, Lali shifted to the centre of the bed. “Come on, then,” she murmured, spreading her legs. “We don’t have all night.”

Nevada knelt in front of her, smirking down at her mockingly. “You’re fucking pathetic,” he said, lowering his hand to her sex. His fingers found her clit and started rubbing against it in quick, sharp movements. He put his hand down on her stomach to hold her down when she bucked her hips up from the lack of build-up.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hissed, her breaths coming out shorter with every second.

He moved his fingers faster against her until she was squirming and writhing beneath him, as if she was trying to get away from him. She moved her hips against his fingers, making circles and squares with her pussy against him. He moved his free hand to her breast, watching as he pinched and kneaded, and wondered briefly just how long it had been since she’d been fucked. Her legs were tangled in the sheets and a layer of sweat covered her body. She had her hands pressed hard into the mattress.

When it came to women, Nevada loved watching their faces when he touched them. He loved watching them try so fucking hard to keep their eyes open and their voices lowered. He especially loved when they touched their face, as if they’ve forgotten themselves and need to make sure they’re real. Their moans and whimpers fuelled his desire and it definitely did wonders for them.

But Lali had no trouble keeping her eyes open. Her body was responding to his ministrations but her face gave nothing away. She watched him steadily as he touched her and it drove him insane.

Stopping the movement of his fingers abruptly, Nevada haphazardly grabbed her and turned her over onto her stomach. He admired the curve of her back and her ass briefly before he grabbed her hips and guided her to her knees.

She allowed him to guide her up and she knelt in front of him, on her hands and knees. She looked expectantly at him over her shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, mocking.

Nevada met her gaze steadily. “Face forward,” he commanded, his voice low. He had to resist the urge to choke her when she rolled her eyes before doing as he said. Instead, he settled with giving her a sharp slap on her ass cheek, one that startled a jerk and a gasp from her. “You need to learn to behave yourself, _amorcita,_ ” he crooned as he traced his hand up her spine. “One of these days, you may need me.” He spread his fingers over her shoulder blades before pushing her hair to one side of her head. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll decide I don’t want to help you.”

He moved his hand higher so it rested on her jaw. He didn’t squeeze or apply pressure, but rather just kept it there to remind her how easily he could kill her if he wanted to. With his other hand, he guided himself inside her, pushing in slowly but completely. She was plenty wet for him and Nevada had to bite his lip to keep from moaning as she took him in. Reaching up, he balled her hair into the fist of his free hand. No pulling yet, but he was ready if the need presented itself.

He felt Lali’s breath hitch against his fingers when he pulled out of her and smiled to himself. _This should be fun._

When he thrust inside her again, it was with force. It took her by surprise and she whimpered in spite of herself. He bucked his hips quickly and roughly, taking what he needed from her and not caring if it was too much. He clenched his teeth and he groaned from the pleasure, her arching back giving him a tight entry. “Fuck…”

He thought for a moment that he imagined it when she spoke. “Harder,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder.”

Nevada happily obliged, slamming into her, his thighs slapping against her skin roughly. His breaths came out fast and heavy and his hair fell into his eyes. The headboard hit the wall hard in time with his thrusts, covering up the sound of his flesh meeting hers. He loved the moans that came out of her and how her breath was unsteady against his fingers. _Fuck_ , he didn’t expect to like it this much. He definitely wasn’t supposed to.

Lali opened her mouth and closed her lips around his index finger. Nevada hissed as she sucked on his skin and pushed in another finger. _Mierda_ , _that’s hot_ … “You’re such a slut,” he gasped. “I should have known.”

Lali moaned around his fingers as response.

“But then again, maybe I did,” he added. The hair in his fist became too much of a temptation and he pulled on it, bringing her head back and causing her spine to curl. They both moaned at the change in angle and Nevada felt himself getting close, but he wanted her to finish before he did. He lowered his hand to her stomach, sliding it down until he reached her clit and started rubbing.

She let out a whimper at the stimulation. Bracing her hands on the wall above his bed, Lali used the leverage to fuck him harder, moving her hips back and forth, meeting his rough thrusts with her own. Her moans became gasps and her gasps became whimpers and her whimpers dissolved to nothing and she came undone. Her orgasm was quiet, just like last time, but this time Nevada could see how her body tensed up and how her mouth fell open. She looked fucking incredible and he thrust into her twice before coming as well. His hands flew to her hips. He moaned out a slew of words—some English, some Spanish, most curses—his heart racing as he spilled his load onto her back. The colour contrasted almost artfully against her dark brown skin. “Wow,” he panted, once his breathing became steady enough for him to speak. “Looks like you’re good at something after all.”

And suddenly, he was exhausted again. Nevada let go of her and watched as she lowered herself slowly onto the bed. Smiling, he turned and plopped down next to her. He looked at her flushing face with a smug look on his face. He met her wide, shock-filled eyes with his and winked before nodding off once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mierda - shit  
> pinche puta - fucking whore  
> puta - whore


	10. Backfire

She lay completely still, her mind racing. She felt like she was floating, her hearing muddled, some spasms still occurring between her legs. It was a few minutes before her breathing returned to normal and her heartbeat slowed.

What on _earth_ was that?!

Jesus.

This morning, Rebecca had woken up with one the sole intention of seducing Nevada. It had taken time and a lot of breathing exercises, but she convinced herself to treat it as if it were just another mission or case. Which it was, really, but in no other cases did she actually have to sleep with someone in order to get something. She dressed herself in the sexiest clothes she had on her, and went bra-less, but Nevada stayed in his room the entire day.

Rebecca spent the majority of the day with Fernanda and her cousin Ana, helping them plan for Sofia’s quinceañera. The two of them had been shocked and, frankly, appalled that she had never had one. Rebecca told them it was to keep from drawing attention to her, seeing as Lali was supposedly a secret, but in reality, it was because her parents had rejected all things Spanish. Instead, she was thrown and “American style” sweet sixteen party. She didn’t even know what a quinceañera was until she was in her late 20s.

When the girls left, Rebecca went to find Isaac. She spoke with him, asking about where the boys had been the day before, but he was cryptic in his response. He wasn’t very suave when changing the subject, asking her opinions on maple syrup. Rebecca wondered how he had managed to into such a high position, seeing as he barely knew how to keep his face straight around her. So instead of humouring Isaac, she left him.

When evening rolled around, she started getting impatient. How the hell was he still asleep?! Scrapping her seduction idea, Rebecca settled on doing some snooping instead. She had been in Nevada’s room a handful of times while he was away, enough to know exactly where he kept his gun (not that it was actually ever there when he wasn’t), enough to know which drawers had the false bottoms, and enough to know which cabinet of his entertainment centre his safe was behind. She had gotten a good look at the safe and was certain she’d be able to pick it. She hadn’t really felt the need to break into it until last night. She was a light sleeper so she heard him when he clambered up the stairs loudly. When he slammed the door of his bedroom, Rebecca listened through the wood and distinctly heard the rotation of the dial and then the opening of the safe.

Whatever Nevada was up to, the answer was inside the safe, and so she decided that, since it seemed that he didn’t plan on waking up today, she might as well pick it. It was best to see the contents now than to risk him taking them with him next time he disappeared. With her gun on her hip and all the necessary equipment in her pocket, Rebecca snuck into the bedroom, first listening through the door to make sure his breaths were coming slowly and steadily.

She knelt in front of the safe and got to work, using the light of her phone screen to help her see. She didn’t dare use the flashlight. The safe was almost cracked completely when Rebecca heard Nevada stirring behind her. Sliding the equipment and her phone under the entertainment centre, she stood quickly and moved towards the bathroom door, but Nevada caught her.

And before she knew what was happening, she was on her knees.

Somehow, she hadn’t expected the experience to feel so _real._ She hadn’t had sex in months, not even having time to get herself off because she’d been so consumed by work and her training. She hadn’t had meaningful sex in years. Since Diego, she would have the occasional hook up to take her mind off things and find an outlet for all her frustrations, but she didn’t bother going for men she was actually interested in or who were interested in her. Not because there was a lack of options, but because she didn’t want to deal with it.

With that in mind, Rebecca decided to pretend that fucking Nevada would be just like fucking the odd man she met at a bar, but it hadn’t been like that.

He had a lot of hair on his torso and a scar in the shape of a bullet on his ribs. His veins poked through the skin of his arms, extremely so when he flexed. The way he ran his hand over her back had sent chills down her spine and when he entered her, she almost lost herself. His hand around her neck had felt terrifying and erotic and the way he pulled her hair made her want to scream, both from pleasure and from pure frustration.

And when she unravelled underneath him, she felt a warmth spread through her entire body like waves crashing onto shore. Her muscles clenched and her thighs trembled and her vision blurred and it wasn’t until he let her go, until he was no longer touching her, that she remembered what she was there to do.

God, she wasn’t supposed to like it.

But what that meant could wait until later. Right now, she had a job to do. Rebecca lay on her stomach, staring at the man sleeping next to her. His hair was matted to his salty forehead from the sweat. He was breathing through his parted lips, snoring slightly, and his cheeks were flushed still. _Passing out just as he came? Maybe he’s not so different than all the others._

Rebecca scowled, appalled by what had just taken place, but she couldn’t dwell on that. She reached out and pushed his head back. Nevada made a grunting noise but settled back into his sleep almost immediately. Deciding it was safe, she stood up and quickly got dressed. She grabbed her gun and quickly replaced it in her holster, then took his and placed it in her pocket, just to be completely safe.

She tiptoed to the entertainment centre and pulled out the equipment from underneath it and resumed her work. In minutes, the safe was unlocked and she opened it slowly, carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible.

There was money and some gold in the safe, but she doubted that was new. What was more interesting were the envelopes. There were ten of them, none of them labelled. She grabbed the one on top and opened it quickly. She reached in a pulled out a passport. _What…_

Was he planning on leaving the States? That didn’t seem like something he would do. Opening up the little book proved her wrong. She recognized the face in the photo as Andrés Perez, a criminal waned for both drug and human trafficking, except the passport claimed his name to be Ian García. The rest of the papers in the envelope were also forged government documents: a driver’s license from Ohio, a birth certificate from Cuba, immigration papers…

Nevada wasn’t leaving the country. Andrés Lopez was, along with nine other dangerous criminals. But where were they going? Why? And why was Nevada helping them?

There was no need for her to look at the rest of them. Now that she knew about this, all she had to do was alert the NYPD and they would send out a notice all around the border. Every officer will have a list of faces memorized and no criminal will be let through. Rebecca replaced the papers into the envelope and placed it back into the safe. She almost got away with it.

“Nevada! Get up!”

Rebecca jumped up, and Nevada jolted upright. His eyes were first at the man standing in the doorway, who had burst into the room in haste, then they flew to the woman standing in front of his open safe. In a split second, he decided which of the two made him more furious.

Still naked except for the socks hanging from his toes, he jumped out of bed and charged towards Rebecca. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” he barked, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall. She stared up at him, truly terrified for a moment before she remembered she had both his gun and hers. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth were bared; she’d never seen him this angry before. “Answer me!” he exclaimed when she was silent, slamming her again against the wall.

Rebecca flinched at her head hitting the wall, but Rafi didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“Nevada, there was someone in the warehouse,” he said quickly.

He turned to Rafi. “ _What,_ ” he hissed, his eyes feral.

“It was Nicolás’s guys,” he explained quickly. “They were looking for the documents. They were covered but Camilo recognized one of their tattoos.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” growled Nevada, pushing away from Rebecca. He dressed himself quickly as Isaac came into the room.

“Sir, Pablo and José have the car waiting downstairs. Are you ready?” he asked.

Nevada pointed at him. “ _You_ are not going anywhere. Rafi is coming this time.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t trust you around _her_ ,” he said through bared teeth.

Rebecca furrowed her brow, wondering for a moment what he meant by that, but her question was answered when Nevada’s hand wrapped tightly around her bicep, squeezing painfully as he dragged her out of the room. She had to almost run to keep up with him as he lead her down the stairs, shouting commands over his shoulder.

“Lock up the safe and hide it somewhere the _zorra_ can’t get to it,” he barked.

“What’s it matter, anyway?” said Rebecca. “I already saw what’s inside.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed as he took her out through the front door to the car waiting on the street. He pushed her in through the open door, shoving her head down roughly and sat down beside her. The vehicle was moving before he even closed the door.

It was hard for Rebecca to keep from smiling. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for: to go with Nevada to meetings. Sure, it wasn’t as planned but that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that she was finally getting the information that she need to land Nevada in jail. All that she ended up needing was good timing.


	11. ...And then all hell broke loose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I am awful at writing action sorry

Before walking into the building, he pulled Rebecca to the side and told her that he was going to kill her. She told him he was being melodramatic. As annoyed as he was, he knew he didn’t have time to deal with her so he let her go and they all entered the building together. On the 27th floor was Nicolás’s apartment. He was never there alone. He had rotating bodyguards that paced the halls and floors surrounding his apartment. All the rooms in the floors 24 to 31 were filled with his own employees. The police suspect that they have some sort of pay-off with the landlord.

“Pathetic,” Nevada had muttered, as if he didn’t live with bodyguards of his own.

“Well, he’s going to need ‘em today, isn’t he, boss?” Pablo had said, being a suck-up as always.

After forcing their way in, followed by a lot of yelling, Nevada and the men were able to sit down and speak with Nicolás. The problem was that Rebecca was not allowed to sit with them. Instead, she was lead through the large doors of the den and into a long, empty room. The light was dim and the window, though large, was tinted. She suspected that this was where they kept their hostages. The thought made her frown. She didn’t like the idea of being kept as a pawn or a prisoner. Fuck this mission.

Sighing, she walked to the window and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked down at the street, checking to see if she could see Craig from up here, and luckily enough, he was sitting at a bench below by a bus stop. She had seen him shortly after they arrived at the building. He was a good police officer, though she didn’t talk to him much, so she had no idea how he thought. If she needed him, how would she signal to him?

Rebecca sighed and looked over her shoulder. “May I help you?” She asked the man who was ogling at her. He was burly and big and bulky and completely hairless with a scar under his eye. One of Nicolás’s men that was assigned to watch her.

She should be glad that they thought her worthy enough to have to watch. She had expected them to just throw her in the room without any supervision and expect her not to do anything about it.

“Yea,” said the man. “Would you mind pushing your arms up a bit?”

She dropped her arms from under her breasts and turn again to the window, trying not to gag. She was still wearing what she had worn for Nevada, which was completely impractical and showed way too much of her body for her to feel comfortable, especially when some random is staring at her like a starved man.

Over the next five minutes, the brute managed to circle her almost completely, taking in every inch of her body but as disgusted as she was, Rebecca stayed still and silent. There was no need for her to let him get to her.

She thought instead about the two guns in her pocket. She had been shocked that Nevada had forgotten about his gun completely. It didn’t seem like a mistake he would make. But then again, he did seem a bit off lately.

When the sixth minute rolled around, Rebecca could hear the voice in the den growing louder and louder, and the seventh minute brought with it the sound of someone being thrown onto the floor hard enough to break bones. She decided she needed to react.

Rebecca pulled off her shirt and wrapped it haphazardly around her elbow, which she used to break the window. It hurt like a bitch, but she recovered quickly. The glass shattered and fell mostly down to the street below, catching Craig’s attention. _Good._

She dropped the shirt to the floor, not wanting to risk putting it back on in case there were shards of glass in it, and turned. She didn’t bother to even look at the dumbfounded man keeping her company and instead ran to the door to the den.

Before she reached it, he reached her. He pulled her back first with her hair, yanking it back in his fist, before he put her into a headlock and lifting her up off the ground, but she squirmed and kicked until he let her put her feet back on the ground.

Rebecca almost smiled. “Big mistake,” she huffed before locking her arms around his and dropping to her knees. The man toppled over her, landing on his head on the floor, hard. Before he even had time to collect himself, she lifted his head and then slammed it on the floor hard enough to knock him out but not hard enough to kill him. In the next moment, she was through the doors and into the den.

The man she presumed was Nicolás stood with his back to her, pointing a gun at Nevada, who looked dumbfounded, with his arms out at his sides. A quick look around and she saw an unrecognized man on the floor, clutching his ribs with one hand and a gun in the other, pointing up at Rafi, who in turn was pointing a gun right back at him. At the other side of the room, Pablo was held at gunpoint as well, in front of a big metal desk. Rebecca could see the handle of his gun sticking out of his pants.

Well, this was a big ol’ fucking mess.

It took her all of two seconds to process all that was going on and she leapt into action. Diving forward, she tackled Nicolás from behind, catching him around his waist and bringing him down to the floor at an angle where he wouldn’t be pointing his gun at anyone. Good thing, too, because it went off and hit the light bulb in the corner of the room when he dropped it. Once he was down, Rebecca reached in her pocket and grabbed Nevada’s gun from her pocket. “Safety’s on,” she said as she tossed it to him, then she pinned Nicolás down and pressed her knees into the small of his back.

He looked shocked and confused for a moment, but that quickly faded and he regained his composure while the rest of the men were trying to process what had just taken place. Why was there a topless woman pinning a drug lord to the floor? Rebecca used that distraction to shoot one of the men, the one holding a gun to Pablo, in the leg. He howled and fell. Nevada leapt into action and shot the man on the floor in the ribs.

“What are you doing, you fucking morons?!” yelled Nicolás, squirming and trying to get out from under Rebecca. She smirked and petted his hair. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she cooed, running her hair through his hair before grabbing a fistful and using it to turn his head to the side so she could slam the blunt handle of her gun into his temple in order to disorient him long enough for them to get away.

“Let’s go!” Nevada cried to his men as Rebecca jumped up. Rafi came running right away, leading the way out the door with Nevada close behind. Pablo, however, dug through the metal desk and grabbed some presumably stolen documents.

“Pablo, leave it,” said Rebecca, but he scoffed at her. “It’s better to leave them,” she insisted. “ _Trust_ me.”

“Fuck off,” was his reply, but he didn’t get a chance to finish saying it.

“Listen to her, _cabron,_ ” hissed Nevada.

Pablo was surprised, but obeyed immediately, dropping everything and running after them.

 _I’m going to control him like that one day,_ Rebecca promised herself as she and Nevada ran to the elevator after Rafi. The hallway was blessedly empty and they made it to the elevator before the men could catch up. They breathed a sigh of relief once the elevator doors closed and Nevada turned to her. “Why the _fuck_ aren’t you wearing a shirt?” he asked.

It took a moment for Rebecca to remember that she was topless, but she shrugged. “I broke a window,” she said simply.

Nevada didn’t question her, but he shrugged his leather jacket from his shoulders and handed it to her wordlessly. Rebecca pulled it on, buttoning all there was to button, but she still had to hold the front together to keep her breasts from being revealed.

Her heart began to race. It was strange thing that happened after every car chase, after every intense interview, after every investigation. In the moment, Rebecca was calm and thought quickly and efficiently. It was what made her such a great officer. But afterwards, when her mind had time to catch up with what she had done, it began to break down, just a bit. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths, and when she opened them, she was being guided through the main lobby with Rafi’s hand on her back. Nevada walked behind Pablo, who led them out the door. It was a precaution. Walking between men meant no one could get to Nevada directly. They would have obstacles. It made sense, but it was still funny to see.

It was stupid of her, and she would scold herself for it later, but she almost missed Craig standing by the front desk. When he caught her eye, she counted out the floor number to him with her hands and he nodded, heading immediately to the elevators. And as Rebecca rode away in Nevada’s car, she saw three underground squad cars speed past them in the direction of the building. She assumed that Craig had called for backup in case he needed it as soon as she broke the window. How else would they have been so close? This area was rarely policed (and Nicolás had everything to do with that).

She let out a breath and leaned back in her seat. “Well that was fun,” she said, smirking.

Rafi smiled a small smile and Pablo rolled his eyes, but Nevada only stared at her, visibly displeased. She met his stare, her exasperation written clear across her face. “What is it?” She asked, ready for him to shit on her for literally saving his life.

“You took my gun,” he said coldly.

She laughed. “Are you serious? Sweetheart, the way I see it, you should _thank_ me for having your gun on me. How else would we have gotten out of there? You forgot about it and I saved your ass.”

Nevada shook his head and moved to sit next to her. “Nice try, _cariño,_ but I know you took it before you even knew we were coming here.”

“Yes, but all’s well that ends well.”

Something flickered across his face as he ground his teeth. She saw it. It was barely visible past his anger and frustration, but it was there. Respect.

It looked like there really was a point to all of this. Fucking him, snooping, getting caught, stealing... It was all leading to the same place but what had just happened was the tipping point. He stared into her eyes, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath against her chin. 

Nevada had realized that he wasn’t messing with some girl he could scare into doing his bidding. He realized that she wasn’t going to let him control her, that she couldn’t be controlled no matter what. She was someone who got what she wanted without any consideration for who got in the way and she wasn’t afraid to do what others may believe to be the unthinkable.

No, this woman demanded control and didn’t stop until she got it and he realized that she wasn’t just some toy, just some little plaything for him to fool around with and poke at with a stick. _Fucking finally._  

Rebecca smiled at him. “You can thank me later,” she said.


	12. The Secret Weapon

They spoke a lot, the men. Going back and forth, going in circles, begging questions, not coming up with solutions to the problem at hand: what were they going to do about this new predicament?

Nevada sat in his leather chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass and sucking on his cigar. Rafi was the most reasonable out of the three that lived with him. Pablo and Isaac were sitting there as a formality, but they didn’t know that. In reality, their opinions didn’t mean much to him. Isaac was naïve and Pablo was an impulsive moron. It was really Rafi and Mateo that were doing all the planning. Nevada chimed in every once in a while, but his mind kept wandering to the woman in the other room.

Lali. What was he going to do about Lali?

Nevada was in possession of all the documents needed to execute their plan, all the passports, all the certificates. They were locked in the safe, which was now hidden in the back of Pablo’s closet in the basement. The plan’s blueprints and the maps of the intended route to Canada, however, were what was taken from the warehouse. He should have known the gang would have pulled something like this. No one in this business could be trusted. Now all those papers were sitting in Nicolás’s apartment because Nevada let Lali tell Pablo to leave them.

What the fuck was that? Why did he do it? Why did he let her have any control at all?

The answer was easy. Because she saved his life. When she said _trust me_ , he suddenly did, even if it was just for that fleeting moment, even if it was about something she was not supposed to know anything about.

She had bruises on her neck and knees. When he got past how hot they looked (after imagining her dropping to the hardwood floor to suck him off, his hands wrapped around her neck to hold her head in place as he fucked her mouth), he realized that she actually had, in fact, risked her life for him. He’d never have thought that she would be able to overpower the brute Nicolás had watching her. Her elbow was covered in cuts that had stained the lining of his jacket with blood. When they had gotten home, she’d gone in with tweezers from the medical cabinet and pulled out small shards of glass that were nestled in between her skin. She hadn’t even flinched when she poured the rubbing alcohol over it. There was something to be said about women who could withstand pain, but Lali was beyond just withstanding a bit of pain. She knew how to fight and she didn’t need protection. And she didn’t need him.

That’s what it came down to, after all. All this time, Nevada thought that she needed him, that she was there because she didn’t have any other option. He had thought she was all talk, and not nearly as valuable as she thought she was. He had thought that Mario just didn’t want to hurt his little cousin’s feelings and built her up to make her feel good about herself.

But that wasn’t the case. She was… something else. And Nevada found himself suddenly re-evaluating everything he had come to know about her.

It was all because she saved him. He was still annoyed at her for taking his gun, but he couldn’t seem to let himself get angry with her. Not really.

The meeting with Nicolás was relatively civil (as civil as it could have been seeing as he tried to monopolize the expansion) until Nevada grew sick of talking and stood. He had reached for his gun and was met with pocket lint. In the next moment, Pablo, who had been counting on Nevada having the upper hand, reached the desk and Rafi slammed a man to the floor.

Then, suddenly, everyone’s guns were out in view except his and he was sure that he was going to lose everything.

Until Lali burst in through the door and raised all hell.

“What do you think, boss?”

Nevada looked up at Pablo. “I think you’re a fucking moron,” he said before downing the rest of his whiskey. “How the hell are we going to come up with a brand new plan and execute it at the deadline? We can’t start from scratch, especially since those documents took over a year to get perfected.”

He hesitated. “Well, we—”

“We are not doing it.”

“We don’t have any other fucking choice, Nevada!” He snapped, but his face fell as soon as he realized what he had done.

Nevada looked at him through his eyebrows, sucking on his cigar and then letting out a puff of smoke between his teeth. The smoke danced in the air in front of his face for a moment before dissolving. “Talk to me like that again, _cabron,_ ” he said, his voice low and threatening, “and I will put my cigar out on your tongue.”

Silenced, Pablo slouched back in his seat, pouting like a fucking two year old, and Isaac spoke up. “But sir,” he said. “What else can we do?”

“Plenty.”

Nevada looked over his shoulder to the person who said the word. She stood leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. Her hair was wet, dangling over her shoulders and in front of her chest. It left translucent wet spots on her thin t-shirt that stuck to the swell of her breast. “There’s plenty to do,” she said.

“Yea?” Said Nevada, scolding himself for paying too close attention to her. She may be an excellent fuck and more useful than he had initially thought, but he didn’t need to start fantasizing about her just yet. He poured himself another glass of whiskey “And what would you suggest?”

“We go to the police.”

They didn’t even try to hold down their laughter; Rafi even choked on his own spit. Mateo, however, was silent. “Wait,” he said in his quiet, authoritative voice.

Nevada looked at him, his smile still stamped on his face. “What?”

“Let’s hear her out,” said Mateo. “Come in, _cariño_.” He gestured to her to enter.

Lali came in and sat on the couch next to Nevada’s chair, across from Mateo.

“What are you thinking?”

“Simple,” she said. “We go to the police as residents in the apartment building. We tell them there is some suspicious activity that goes on in the 29th floor. They definitely have Nicolás’s name in their records so a complaint is all they need to get a search warrant. Once they’re in, they’ll find the blueprints—”

“And conclude that Nicolás was behind it all,” Mateo finished.  

She smiled. “Exactly. They won’t have any reason to look to us.”

Mateo chuckled. “I like this new addition to your party, Nevada,” he said to the stunned man. “Good work getting her.”

“Oh, he didn’t get me,” Lali said. “I got here on my own.”

Nevada stared from Mateo to Lali, dumbfounded and surprised, his cigar dangling dumbly from his lips. Did… did this _chica_ seriously just get Mateo to not only listen to her, but to agree with her? Had he really been so wrong about her? It… it just didn’t make any fucking sense.

“There’s no way we can pull that off,” said Nevada, snapping out of his confounded state. “The cops know us. They have our faces _memorized_. Once we approach them, there is no way they would let us walk away.”

Lali only shrugged. “Maybe not you,” she said. “But they have no record of a Lali Rosa anywhere in their system.”

Silence filled the room as they all stared at her. She was right. No one had any clue who Lali Rosa was, so there is no way they would have any reason to suspect her.

This made sense. This would _work._ Fuck, it was genius! Nevada laughed out loud, completely bewildered. “Huh,” he said, taking a gulp of his whiskey.

Lali smiled at him, a look that was sexy and intimidating and still somehow warm. “I told you I was a secret weapon,” she said simply.

“Yea, you did,” confirmed Nevada. _And I guess you are._

 

Rebecca stood, leaning against the wall of Nicolás’s building. She could see the patrol car approaching from down the street. She could almost feel Rafi stiffen next to her. She wanted to laugh. It didn’t make any sense to her that he could actually be afraid of police, after being in the “business” he’s been in his whole life?

“Relax,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yea, but you’re doing the talking,” he said. “There’s no way they wouldn’t recognize me.”

Even though it was her idea, Nevada didn’t trust her to let her do this alone. Smart man, obviously, but there was no way he could know what she was really doing. Rafi had been given green coloured contacts to wear over his brown eyes and he was wearing something no man of Nevada’s would ever wear: a sports jersey and cargo shorts. His major identifiers—scars, birthmarks—were all covered up one way or another. “I should give them a false name,” he had said. “Like a _guero_ name or something. Like… Paul.”

“Good idea,” Lali had replied. “I’ll do that too.”

“What are you going to call yourself?”

“Rebecca.”

The police officers that came were officers Murray and Phillips: an average-height man with prematurely greying hair and a tall woman with thick brown hair. Or Mitchell and Kyla, both of whom have had undercover experience, both of whom Rebecca knows quite well.

It had been tough for Rebecca to get to a secure enough location so she could call Brian and let him know what she was about to do. The phone call was quick, done in the bathroom with the tap running, but she said to send officers instructed to act like strangers to her and everything will reveal itself.

The exchange itself was the easiest part. Rebecca did most of the talking, with Rafi chiming in every once in a while to expand on small details. He was doing a good job considering how nervous he had been leading up to the encounter and Rebecca wondered if he was like this on the way to business meetings and big deals as well. The thought made her smile. That someone so big and intimidating could get the jitters and sweaty palms seemed so cute.

It didn’t fit her image of what she had expected coming here, for sure. But then again, neither did most of the things she found here. Not Isaac, not Fernanda, not the family-oriented attitude, not the fun atmosphere in the house… The only thing that was consistent to how she pictured this mission to be was Nevada. He was just as awful as she had expected him to be, but it remained to be seen if he changes at all now that he has begun to trust her.

At the end of it all, Isaac pulled up to the curb to pick Rafi and Rebecca up. She called shotgun and Rafi swore while the officers spoke to Brian over the radio in the patrol car. Isaac was watching them as they talked and when Rebecca asked, he muttered that he wanted to see if he could figure out what they were saying. When he decided that he couldn’t, he shrugged and pulled out onto the street. “They didn’t seem to suspect you guys,” he said.

“You should have seen Lali out there,” said Rafi, smiling at her from the back seat. “Or should I say ‘Rebecca?’”

She laughed. “Whatever you want, Paul.”

Two days later, Nevada and the men went out to celebrate Nicolás’s arrest. They went to a club with dark walls and flashing lights. The music was so loud that it shook the floors and it was hard to stand still. Some people were lost in the music and others were there just to grind against each other. Nevada found a 20-something that was willing to let him touch her anywhere he wanted over her clothing as they danced. They were seen walking out of the men’s bathroom an hour later.

It was impossible to not feel drunk as one moved through the room. Nevada had a private, VIP booth and bought bottle service for the entire night. The night was not about success. It was about the universe working in favour of them. It was about celebrating little victories, even though they could all very well be knocked down in an instant.

Because, yes, Nicolás was gone, but there was no way that some sort of retaliation was off the table. The beautiful, beautiful thing about that, though, was that Nevada had no control over that, but he did have control over the girls trailing their hands up his thighs and nibbling at his ears.

“To us all,” Nevada had slurred at three in the morning, holding up a glass unsteadily. “You’re all morons but you got my back and so I love having every single fucking one of you on my team.”

The table cheered and drank, and Nevada, the passionate but truthful drunk, made clear that he trusted everyone he’d brought to the club that night.

Rebecca included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guero - white guy (derogatory)


	13. Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a much more eventful chapter, but I cut it in half because of length. Hope it's good anyways?

The plan was on. It had been pushed forward by three weeks to accommodate for all the tasks that had to be reassigned, but it was still on. The dealers had all been notified (and they were not particularly happy about the change). Rebecca was not given all of the information, but was given enough to know when and where it was going to take place. October 31st—Halloween, the irony of which made Rebecca laugh. The truth was, though Halloween meant a lot of police patrol, it also meant that a large group of people dressed in what would normally be suspicious attire could easily go unnoticed.

The exchange of documents would take place near an old junkyard, promptly after which, all ten of the dealers would be transported to different parts of the country. They would all cross the border the same day but at different locations to both make up for the time lost and to not allow customs to get wise to who they were really letting through.

Rebecca was given a task. It was nowhere near the actual exchange, but it was a reason to be there. She was one of a handful of lookouts, but specifically, one who would talk to anyone who got suspicious, any police, any guards, any other gang members. Nevada was very much happy about having someone completely unrecognizable on his team. It was new to him, and he was determined to make it last. After all, if the Rosas got away with it for decades, why couldn’t he?

The dog days were over. It was mid August and the weather was becoming cooler as fall became closer, but there was enough heat during the day to make them sweat. The AC was fixed and working better than before, cooling the house completely so that stepping outside felt like stepping into a sauna.

When Rebecca packed her clothes to start the mission, the summer was just beginning. She had packed light clothing to keep cool in the heat, lots of thin shirts and dresses. It hadn’t occurred to her that Nevada would have AC because her apartment didn’t. She needed to go shopping eventually, but she couldn’t really see how that would happen.

Sighing, she pulled on a navy blue slip dress and knee-high socks. Dark colours and socks were supposed to keep you warm, right?

“Hey.”

Rebecca turned to see Nevada standing at her door.

“Don’t you ever knock?” she asked. “You could’ve walked in on me changing.”

He smirked and eyed her body slowly. “You say that like it’d be a bad thing,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already seen me naked,” she reminded him. “It wouldn’t be anything new.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not, but it would be fucking fantastic to see it again, anyway.”

“What do you want, Nevada?”

He entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Just to talk,” he said.

“What about?” She asked as he strolled towards her.

“Stuff.”

“Like?”

He shrugged, his hands in fists in his pockets. “Just stuff.”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn’t seen him like this before. He looked almost vulnerable, and she wondered why he was trying to come across as such. Little things about him give away that it was an act: his unwavering eyes meeting hers, his shoulders held high, the little smirk on the corner of his mouth. There was not a single trace of self-doubt that Rebecca could see as he played with the loose fabric of her thin cotton dress.

“Are you sure you’re not just bored?” she asked.

Smiling at that, Nevada looked at her. “Well, what if I am?” he said. “Is it so wrong to come to you looking for entertainment?”

She tilted her head. “There’s a lot to do in New York, Nevada. Why don’t you just go to a club or something?”

He shrugged. “Not really feeling up to it.”

“Oh really?” said Rebecca, amused. “Not feeling up to having girls all over you?”

Nevada smiled as he watched her turn away from him and walk to her dressing table. “Why? Are you offering?” he asked.

“I think you have more than enough girls lined up for that,” Rebecca muttered, pushing her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck.

Nevada eyed her for a moment before approaching her, standing far too close. His stomach almost touched her back with every one of his inhales. “So you noticed that, huh?” he murmured.

“Noticed what?”

“That _chica_ I was with. At the club.”

Rebecca paused. What was he getting at? “Well yea, I… why wouldn’t I have?” She turned to him and leaned back against the dresser so that their bodies wouldn’t be so close.

Nevada smiled mischievously at her. “Were you jealous or something?” he asked, attempting to flirt.

“Do you want me to have been jealous?” asked Rebecca, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t say that I don’t like the idea,” he said, licking his lips and moving even closer to her. “You know, that girl could have easily been you. I just didn’t think you’d like me fucking you in a public bathroom,” he added, his voice low.

“So you _did_ fuck her,” stated Rebecca indifferently. She tried to walk away from him, but he stepped in her way.

“No, actually. I didn’t,” he said. “I gave her what she wanted but I didn’t fuck her.”

She looked at him, irritated and exasperated. The only thing she could really do at this point was humour him because he was definitely not going to let her out of the conversation. “Why not?” she asked.

“I was waiting for you to offer.”

Rebecca scoffed. “Offer to fuck you? What makes you think I’d want to a second time?”

“Because I know you can’t stop thinking about me,” said Nevada, teasing. “I noticed you watching me all night that night.”

“I _noticed_ that you were pissed out of your skull,” Rebecca replied. She tried to side step him but he stopped her once again.

“And what about the girls I was with later on?” he asked, leaning down towards her.

“What about them?”

“Don’t you wish, even for a little bit, that you were one of them?”

“Not particularly.”

His eyes narrowed slightly and he lost a bit of his smile. He watched Rebecca’s face carefully before speaking. “Are you saying that you don’t want me?” he asked.

 _Yes. I am saying that I don’t want you._ But Rebecca knew that would be a mistake. She could let him know she wasn’t interested in a different way, but being so forthright about it might be the wrong thing to do. “I’m _saying_ I don’t want to be one of your nameless conquests in the slimy bathroom of some overcrowded club,” she said instead.

Nevada stepped closer to her so that she could feel his breath against her face. “That’s not what you are,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“So then what’s wrong with a little fun?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you so hung up on this?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re the one who brought it up,” she said. What was he trying to accomplish here?

Nevada paused, grinding his teeth. “So let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re not interested anymore.”

 _I never was_ , she almost said but she bit her tongue and shook her head instead.

“And what we did? Just a one night thing?”

“Yes.”

Nevada straightened up, making a point to keep his head up so that he could look down his nose at her. “What, were you using me or something?” he demanded.

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest. “That couldn’t be a new concept to you,” she said, her voice sharp.

He scoffed. “What for?” he asked, but it sounded more like a command.

“To see what was in the safe,” she answered simply. “You caught me in your room so I had to get your mind off that somehow.”

“And that was the only reason?”

“That was the only reason.”

“So…” said Nevada, leaning his body towards hers. “You wouldn’t accept if I offered to give you _another_ amazing night?”

Rebecca stayed rooted to her spot, staring up at him as he placed his hands lightly on her waist, playing with the fabric of her dress.

“What if I told you wanted you?” he asked, his voice low. He continued when she didn’t answer. “If I told you I could give you _the best sex_ you’ve ever had?”

 _Fuck,_ she could feel her heart starting to beat faster. This was not the time! “What’s your point?” she asked flatly.

“I’m just clarifying. You aren’t interested in me.”

“No.”

“You don’t want me to be _inside_ of you.”

She didn’t say anything, only stared.

“So if I offered to take you into a bathroom, pick you up and put you on the counter—”

Rebecca took a deep breath, trying to keep steady as her heartbeat kept increasing.

“—Drop down to my knees, bury my face between your thighs—”

It was the way he was looking at her, the way he was saying it that was getting to her.

“—And eat you out until you can’t see straight, just like I did to that girl at the club…”

Was it suddenly warm? Rebecca felt suddenly warm.

“My tongue between your folds…”

“Me moaning against you…”

Rebecca could feel how flushed her skin was.

“Me tasting every bit of you…”

She looked down.

“You wouldn’t want it.”

He stopped speaking and suddenly, all Rebecca could hear was her pulse pounding in her ears. “No,” she whimpered, trying to catch her breath. “That’s no—”

“—Not what you are,” Nevada finished.

She looked up at him as he moved towards her, closing whatever little space was left between them, but Rebecca didn’t move away. She parted her lips and lifted her chin, ready for him as he leaned his head down towards her.

She abandoned all thought in that moment, not giving a shit about what this could mean, not caring about what would happen afterwards. All she knew is that she wanted his hands on her.

His parted lips brushed hers.

“There you are!”

They froze, pulled away from each other, and turned to the door where Fernanda stood, looking irritated.

“Nevada, Rico is downstairs waiting for you.”

He groaned. “What does he want?”

“You know why he’s here Nevada,” she said. “You promised you would let him look at you.”

“Fuck off.”

“ _Nevada._ ”

“ _Fernanda._ ”

“This is not up for negotiation,” she said. “Come downstairs.”

He huffed, but he gave in. “Fine,” he said, but before he left, he turned to Rebecca. It was clear that he thoroughly enjoyed the mix of emotions on her flushing face. “We’ll finish this off later,” he told her.

Rebecca didn’t answer, just watched as he left her room, winking before he closed the door behind him. And when he was gone, she sank to the floor. The cold hardwood bit into the warm flesh of her thighs.

What the fuck was that? And what was she going to do about it?


	14. Buildup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very long but I decided not to cut it. You're welcome. ;)

It wasn’t really that she wanted to jump into bed with Nevada again. In fact, if fucking him again would be the same as the last time, she’d rather avoid it. It had felt fine but was ultimately futile. Still, she was craving him to touch her.

But not like that.

It’d been years since Rebecca had been intimate with someone. Three, to be exact. What she did with the men she met in bars, and what she did with Nevada was not intimate. It was fucking. But the conversation that she had just had with him, despite the vulgar remarks, felt very, _very_ intimate. The way he lowered his voice when he was close, the way he played with the cotton of her dress, the way his breath tickled her lips. It felt sweet and tender, and Rebecca wanted more.

She liked to consider herself to be a strong person. And she knew, really, that needing affection and comfort and, frankly, _hugs_ didn’t make you weak, but it still made her feel that way, especially if she was starting to look for it in Nevada fucking Ramirez.

Rebecca paced the room, tapping with her finger at her bottom lip. Intimacy was great but when it came down to it, fucking was fun as well and though the last time was not intimate nor was it entirely great for her, the potential for a good fuck was there.

And since when was she unable to separate work from pleasure? Just because she hated the man and wanted him in jail didn’t mean she couldn’t fuck him whenever she saw fit, right? Isaac was probably willing, and the thought of doing it with him made her feel less nauseated than doing it with Nevada, but she had a feeling that getting close to Isaac meant meeting Nevada’s wrath and not being able to stick around to see her mission through, and that was the most important thing.

Ugh, this was a mess.

But she wanted it. After months of being too busy and caught up in work, an orgasm caused by hands that weren’t hers felt great. She’d forgotten just how great it could be, and the night he had her flush against the fridge was a great reminder.

There was nothing wrong with hate sex. There was also nothing wrong with pretending to be into the person you’re fucking. She’d done it often enough before. In fact, it was easier now. Nevada had begun to drop his tough-guy persona around her. He trusted her enough now that he didn’t feel the need to keep her on her toes. He stopped testing her and being an asshole about everything she did and he looked at her for reasons other than her body. The two of them weren’t fighting all the time and it was much less of an effort for Rebecca to pretend that she was not disgusted by everything he was and did.

But then again, should that mean that she was attracted to him? The thought had never really occurred to her before, but there was definitely something going on between her legs when he touched her, even if her mind told her no. And her heart still beat faster when he moved to hold her.

 _Fuck. Stop._ She couldn’t do this! It was ridiculous!!

…Right?

People are blinded by love and hate all the time. Could it be that she was so repulsed by him that she didn’t want him to touch her at all? Now that she was more used to him, she could look at his body objectively. She couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t at least good-looking, right?

Strapping her garter holster to her thigh, she left the room and went downstairs. There was no point in debating with herself about this. She’ll just let this all play out and if she finds that she’s in his bed again… well, she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it.

She could hear them in the living room. Nevada, Fernanda, Rafael, and a fourth person whose voice she didn’t recognize but assumed was Rico. She moved towards the entrance so she could hear the conversation more clearly. Hiding behind the wall, she listened as Fernanda spoke to Rico about Nevada.

“He fainted last week—”

Nevada, “I didn’t fucking _faint_.”

Fernanda, “He passed out last week.”

Rico, “Was it the first time that happened?”

Nevada, “Yes—”

Rafi, “No. And he’s been blacking out.”

Nevada, “I am going to feed you all to rabid dogs.”

Rebecca smiled at that. Someone in the room laughed.

“I’m going to put you to bed rest.” That was Rico. The way he said it sounded experienced, as if he’d said it hundreds of times. Definitely a doctor.

“Fuck off, cuz,” said Nevada.

“Seriously. Go to sleep,” said Rico. “And that’s a fucking order, you dumbass.”

“I sleep when I need to,” said Nevada.

“Do you want me to list what sleep deprivation does?” said Rico.

“Don’t get all medical on me—”

“It dumbs you down, it gives you wrinkles, it makes you forget shit all, impairs judgement, kills your sex drive—”

“Yea, yea, yea,” interrupted Nevada. Rebecca could picture him leaning back in his seat and running his hands over his face.

“Nevada, go to bed _now_.” That was Fernanda. “I know you love your precious business, but fat good you’re going to do if you drop dead from not sleeping.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic—”

“Go the _fuck_ to sleep, you _pendejo!_ ”

It continued like that for a bit, but eventually, the room fell silent and there was shuffling and packing up of medical equipment. A moment later, a furious Nevada emerged from the living room, faltering a bit when he saw Rebecca outside the door, but recovering instantly. He didn’t say a word to her as he walked passed her, towards the stairway.

 _What a baby,_ thought Rebecca as she watched him go up the stairs. She’d almost expected him to stamp his feet as he went, like a six year old throwing a tantrum. He didn’t stamp, but she heard the door slam as he entered his bedroom.

Chuckling to herself, she entered the living room and introduced herself to Rico, who explained that he and Nevada had been friends since they were teenagers. He grew up in the Heights but went to California for medical school. He’d come back only a handful of years ago and he and Nevada reconnected.

“Don’t you get shit on by these guys?” asked Rebecca, genuinely curious.

“Not Nevada’s men. Everyone else, sure,” he said. “But not these guys.”

She watched him as he left. He was well dressed and very good-looking. If she ever saw him under different circumstances, she’d never would have guessed he knew anything about Nevada and his business.

 _Hm._ She quickly messaged Brian about the new information. The police usually dismissed doctors and lawyers and really anyone from the Heights that went to university, assuming they would be shunned by the Nevada types, but Rebecca wondered how many people on the “outside” really knew what was going on, and just how much they knew.

Deleting the messages from her phone after they were sent, she replaced it in her dress pocket and ascended the stairs. She didn’t really have a plan and she didn’t really know what her intentions really were, but she was curious and willing to see what would happen. Stalling for only a moment outside his bedroom, Rebecca pushed open the door and entered.

Nevada was laying, shirtless, on his stomach with his hands tucked under his pillow. His clothes lay scattered across the floor, all except his underwear, the hem of which was peeping out from under his sheets. At first she thought he was sleeping but his shoulders were far too tense, unless he was having a nightmare, in which case she should probably leave. She turned to exit the room and accidentally kicked the door, causing it to swing shut. Not too loud, but loud enough to wake him from the light sleep he was in.

He pushed himself onto his elbows, groaning. “Are you gonna let me leave now,” he muttered, “Or do you plan on keeping me here forever?” He looked over his shoulder, and sniffed when he saw who was at the door. “Oh, it’s you,” he mumbled before turning and laying down again.

Rebecca tilted her head. “Who were you expecting?” she asked.

“Santa Clause,” muttered Nevada.

“Aw, what a good Christian boy, you are,” teased Rebecca, moving to the bed and sitting down on the empty side. “Fernanda won’t let you out of your room? Makes sense.”

Nevada turned his head so he could look at her. “She’s persistent,” he agreed.

“She’d a hardass. You wouldn’t know from just looking at her.”

“She wouldn’t let me go anywhere except my room so I thought I might as well get some sleep,” he said, rubbing his eyes tenderly. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” said Rebecca, shrugging. “I just thought I’d keep you company.”

Nevada eyed her as she lay down on her back beside him. “No, I’m sure you want something.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“Maybe you’re just bored.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything, but she and Nevada looked at each other for a few moments. His green eyes looked black in the dim room and his hair was sticking out at the sides. He watched her carefully, but not necessarily suspiciously, almost like he was wondering about her. She sat up.

“You still haven’t thanked me, you know,” she said, turning to face him as he lay.

“What?”

“For helping you out at Nicolás’s place. I said you could thank me later but you never did.”

He pushed himself onto his elbows and looked at her over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said simply, but continued when Rebecca gave him an unimpressed look. “I guess I was wrong about you. You’re not so bad.”

She smirked. “Is that your idea of an apology?”

Nevada opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. Instead of saying anything, he lay his head on the pillow again.

Rebecca chuckled. It was just like him to not want to admit being sorry, which just let her know that he was. She didn’t press on. Instead, she reached out a smoothed a hand across his shoulders and back. It was dim in the room, but there was enough light for her to see the outline of the various scars on his back. “What happened here?” she asked, running her hand over the largest one: a long curved line that stretched from his shoulder blade to his spine.

“Knife,” Nevada muttered.

She moved her hand to a patch of raised, bumpy skin that curved along his ribcage. “Here?”

“Fire.”

A small cluster of uneven scars at the centre of the small of his back. “Here?”

“Broken bottle.”

There were others but they were small and Rebecca doubted he knew all the origins and so decided not to ask anymore. Instead, she wordlessly stroked the uneven of his back.

“You don’t want to know more?” asked Nevada.

“No,” she replied. “I get the pattern. They’re all from fights.”

“Mhm. Except this one,” he said, pointing to a tiny scar near his jugular. It took a moment for Rebecca to even see it. “That is from Carlos,” Nevada explained. “He had sharp nails as a baby and he loved that spot.” He seemed proud of the fact.

Rebecca smiled. “I see,” she murmured, smoothing her hand over his scar and feeling the movement when he took a deep breath. He let out a small moan when she added pressure there. She raised an eyebrow and rolled the fleshy part of her hand against that same spot and Nevada hissed.

Maybe it was because she and Diego used to massage each other frequently and she could clearly remember how relaxing and amazing it felt. Rebecca brought her hands to Nevada’s back and started working at his skin, feeling for the knots in his muscles and smoothing them out as best as she could.

He hummed underneath her, not protesting at all as she shaped his flesh. His most sensitive spots were just below his shoulder blades and the sides by the small of his back. And when the angle became a strain on her hands, Rebecca threw one leg onto the other side of him so that she was straddling him. She sat on his ass, which she could feel through the sheets and the fabric of his boxers, and she wondered if he could feel her gun pressing into him.

He’d stiffened slightly when she climbed onto him, not from hesitation or repulsion, but rather from awareness. Rebecca ignored it and continued massaging him, not afraid to use her shoulders in the work. She tried to think to herself why it was that she was doing this, but she couldn’t think of a single logical explanation. But the warmth of their bodies, the skin meeting skin, the heavy breaths, the silence… it felt nice. His sighs and hisses and moans sounded nice and Rebecca was beginning to feel flushed.

When she ran her hands over his shoulders, he grabbed one of them, holding it until she stopped moving altogether. Once she understood his intention, she lifted herself onto her knees as Nevada turned over onto his back. She sunk back down, feeling him half-hard underneath her.

He was looking at her carefully, and kept his gaze steady on hers as she rubbed his chest and stomach slowly and gently. He stroked her thighs slowly, ignoring her holster and he bit his lip when she rolled her hips forward and took a sharp intake of breath when she pressed down against his length. The only thing between the two of them was her underwear and his.

 _Fuck_.

Rebecca lowered her head down until her lips touched his jaw. She placed kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking as she went. Nevada’s hands wrapped into her hair as she ran her tongue over his nipple and he sighed.

She sucked and nibbled on his skin, slowly moving lower and lower still, scraping her teeth along his hip bone and running her tongue along the skin just above the hem of his boxers. His grip on her hair tightened as she pulled away the fabric of his sheets and boxers, freeing his erection. Rebecca pried his fingers loose from her hair before wrapping her hand around his thick shaft. Nevada stroked her face as she placed kisses on the head of his cock, licked at the underside of the head, and then ran her tongue slowly down the side, following a prominent vein, and following it back up again. He hissed when she sucked on the tip tried to thrust into her mouth but Rebecca pulled away before he could.

He groaned. “Come on…” he muttered.

She leered at him as she lazily pumped his cock with her hand and he met her gaze with an irritated glare. “You don’t like being teased?” she asked.

“Fuck off,” he muttered back at her.

Rebecca laughed but lowered her mouth to him once again, this time taking him in. Her mouth was small and his cock was thick so her hands ended up having to do most of the work. Still, she sucked and licked all she could. He tried thrusting into her mouth but she couldn’t take much so instead, he wrapped his fists into her hair again and tried to guide her as she sucked him off.

Rebecca could feel him trying to take control, and she knew that he wouldn’t stop trying so she let him guide her head. He moved it quickly and began to thrust his hips up, groaning as she sucked and swallowed around him. Her hand worked on the part of his shaft that her mouth couldn’t reach.

“Fuck yea,” he groaned. “That’s it…”

She could feel herself getting wetter and rubbed her thighs together at the feeling. Nevada’s moans filled her ears and definitely didn’t help in slowing down the heat that was filling her. It was time.

Rebecca moved her mouth away from his cock with a pop and, with quite a bit of effort, pushed away his hands and sat up. Nevada raised himself onto his elbows and watched her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “So is this you finally returning the favour?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes and climbed up his body to straddle his hips once again. “ _Cariño,_ you need to stop hoarding things like that over people’s heads,” she said, pushing him down onto his back again. “This isn’t a competition.”

He raised a mocking eyebrow at her. “Sure feels like one,” he said.

Rebecca rubbed her pussy against his cock, feeling the friction through the wet cloth of her underwear. “How about we call a truce?” she asked as she rocked her hips against him.

Nevada wrapped his large hands around her hips, tangling his fingers into the hem of her panties. “Sounds good to me,” he said, smirking up at her. “As long as you know that you’re the one who started all this.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” she said before lowering her hands to her underwear. She didn’t bother taking it off, just pushed aside the fabric so she could feel his hot cock against her folds.

She rolled her hips, moving her pussy in circles, then she guided his length between her folds, stroking and teasing him until his nails were digging painfully into her skin. It was then that she guided his head to her entrance and sunk down onto him, coating him with her wetness. She let out a breath as Nevada threw his head back and moaned. She rose up and sunk back down slowly a handful of times before bracing her hands on his stomach and riding him faster as he thrust his hips up to meet her halfway.

Nevada moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled at the straps of her loose dress, pulling the straps down until it fell down on its own, pooling around her stomach. She pulled her arms out of the straps as Nevada pulled at her strapless bra, bringing it down to rest on her stomach above the dress.

Now exposed and unsupported, Rebecca’s breasts bounced as she ground on him. Nevada watched them bouncing, then moved his gaze to her parted, panting lips, and then back to her chest. “Fuck,” he hissed at a particular twirl of her hips.

Rebecca arched backwards, throwing her head back as he wrapped his hands around her breasts, moulding the flesh and pinching her nipples. She changed her movements so that she was grinding on his cock, allowing its length to stroke against her clit every time she moved against him. His groans and encouragements flooded her ears and she began to feel lightheaded. “Oh god,” she whimpered inaudibly as she felt her orgasm approaching.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he moaned as he ran the nails of his thumbs over her nipples. “No wonder you were so desperate for my cock.” He leaned up to bite at the flesh of her breast before sucking on the nipple, but Rebecca pushed him down before long.

He watched her flushing face as he held tightly onto her ribs. He could feel her beginning to stiffen around him and he began thrusting upwards into her harder.

With a gasp, she came, her thighs trembling and her lips quivering as the heat and pleasure spread throughout her body and consumed her. Nevada groaned as her cunt tightened around him, squeezing and clenching him and giving him so much more pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, reaching up and grabbing Rebecca by her arms. He pulled her down towards him as his thrusts into her became erratic, fucking her through her orgasm. He took her face in his hands and watched her face as she came. “Look at me…” he commanded.

She opened her eyes. She had trouble doing so, but she kept them open, allowing him to watch the wonder that filled her eyes. Her breathing was laboured and her cheeks were flushed. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her nipples tickling his skin. She had her hands at his sides, stiffened and clenched around his sheets. She shook against his continuing thrusts as they prolonged her orgasm.

“Say my name,” he whispered.

Rebecca gasped and closed her eyes, not able to keep them open anymore.

“ _Say it_ ,” repeated Nevada, but she didn’t seem to hear him. She came down from her orgasm and her body went limp on top of him, resting her forehead against his. He groaned in frustration. Grabbing her ass, he buried himself deep, deep inside of her, causing her to jump from the sensation. He guided her as he thrust just as deep twice more before climaxing. He pulled out as he came, his load spilling onto her ass. He threw his head back and groaned as he unloaded, closing his eyes and feeling the rush of pleasure.

When he came down, he became aware of his breathing more than before. It was heavy and loud. His softening dick was nestled between her ass cheeks and his lower stomach was slick from her pussy. He moved his hand to Rebecca’s head, which was resting on his chest, and stroked her hair slowly.

She raised her head to look down at him, taking in the details of his post-orgasm face. His lips parted, his skin sweaty, his hair a mess. His green eyes, intense as they always were, met hers and she lowered her lips to his before she could think better of it. She kissed him slowly and intently and he returned it just the same, sucking on her lower lip as she nipped at his upper lip. She didn’t know how long it lasted, but it was enough to give her butterflies in her stomach.

She left soon after. Pulling her bra and her dress back up and hoping that the fluids weren’t too visible against the dark colour of the fabric. She’d waited until her legs had stopped shaking and left him without a word.


	15. Dissociate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nevada can't figure out why he's feeling so _off_. Maybe he ate something funny.

The music pounded through his ears and seeped into his bones. The lights were dim and colourful and the beer was beer, but it got the job done. He looked around the floor from his booth at the men and women dancing on the floor. The men, all ages, trying to press up against as many women as they could. The women, mostly younger, dancing with themselves or each other in flashy dresses and colourful outfits. Rafi was leaning his back against the bar, Fernanda leaning into him as they waited for their drinks. Pablo was on the floor, his crotch pressed against the ass of a sexy, curvy lady. Nevada was sure his name had been mentioned in the conversation that lead up to her letting Pablo touch her at all. There was no way that she would have given him the time of day otherwise.

On Nevada’s left sat Isaac and next to him sat Lali, finishing off her first drink. She said she didn’t like beer because it tasted like piss. Nevada had been watching her discreetly throughout the entire night, trying to see if he noticed any odd behaviour, anything abnormal, but she hadn’t been acting strange at all. It was slightly disconcerting because, according to his men, Nevada _was._ And he didn’t doubt it, either. He felt strange.

Something was wrong. Something was off. Something, _something,_ but he couldn’t figure out just what that something was.

It’d been a week since he fucked Lali and he still wasn’t sure what that was about. She didn’t seem to want anything then, unlike the last time, so that only left the possibility that she fucked him because she wanted to fuck him. But why did she? Was she just horny? Frankly, she didn’t come across as the type to fuck anyone for no reason. But then again, what did he even really know about her?

And this hadn’t happened to him before. Since when did he worry about what a _chica_ sleeping with him meant? But then again, since when did he fuck someone in his inner circle? He knew what Lali was capable of. It would be an idiot move for him to let down his guard around her.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” she announced, standing up. “Do you guys want something? No? Okay, be right back.”

Nevada watched her as she made her way through the crowded floor. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of shorts and looked sexy as fuck without even trying. Her hair loose, spilling over her shoulders and swaying as she moved her way to the bar. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Good for her.

Isaac was saying something, but Nevada didn’t pay him any attention. He kept his eyes on Lali, who was ordering a drink from what Nevada felt like was a _too_ friendly bartender. And the bitch was laughing with him, too. He sipped his beer. Maybe she really was the type to sleep around. Maybe all she needed was someone with a decent face and good timing. Shouldn’t really surprise him that she was a slut.

“Boss!”

Nevada turned to Isaac. “What, cuz?”

“I’m pretty sure that _chica_ over there wants you to invite her up,” he said, pointing obviously at a slightly older woman in a very short red dress.

Nevada chuckled. “She’s looking at you, brother,” he said.

Isaac narrowed his eyes. “Yea?”

Nevada laughed. “Yea. Go for it.”

Nodding, Isaac got up. He was drunk enough to feel confident and disrespectful, both of which were qualities he lacked when he was sober, and both of which were qualities perfect for picking up insecure _zorras_ in places like this. Nevada watched him talk to the woman for a moment before turning his eyes back to Lali at the bar just in time to see some _pendejo_ slip something into her drink as she was looking away.

His hand tightened around the bottle he was holding. Now that was unacceptable. He should really get over there and beat some sense into the motherfucker, and he almost did so, but something told him he should wait. Lali was flirting with him, but she was faking it. Nevada could tell. She’d faked flirting with him enough times for him to know the difference. She was purposely leading him on… but why?

Nevada watched as she took a small sip of her drink and then the glass down, smiling. The next moment, she was leaning across the bar and whispering something into the bartender’s ear. Two seconds later, the _pendejo_ ’s picture was taken from a polaroid camera and put up on the wall of banned customers behind the bar, and then he was being dragged, kicking and screaming, from the club by the bouncer.

 _Impressive_ , thought Nevada, looking at Lali. She, however, seemed completely unmoved. She sat at the bar, texting, before picking up the brand new screwdriver made for her.

So that was it? She took down a guy without even lifting a finger? _Shit,_ he needed to be careful around her. Who knows what she was capable of—

No. What he _needed_ to do was stop worrying about what she was doing. _Now._ Why was he even paying any attention to her when there were much more exciting things that could be done. Nevada slid from his booth and moved to the dance floor, leaving his drink at the table. Already, his eye went to a young woman in a sequined dress. She had long, bleached hair and was sensible enough to wear flats instead of heels. She looked reasonably intelligent and like she would know just how to suck him off. He approached her from behind, trailing his hands up her sides before taking her by the hand and spinning her around to face him as she danced. She laughed at first but her movements stiffened when she recognized him. From the look on her face, Nevada could tell she was too scared to reject him, no matter how much she wanted to.

He had assumed she would fall at his feet like most _chicas_ he approached did, but his judgement was wrong. It happened sometimes. He spun the terrified yet sensible woman away from him and turned instead to his second choice: another young woman who was showing maybe a bit too much cleavage. She pressed herself against him, smiling up at him as she ground her hips against him.

Nevada mirrored her general movements, but mostly let her do most of the dancing. He traced his hands up her thighs and the soft flesh of her stomach as she moaned in his ears: loud, exaggerated sounds that made his teeth clatter. _Fuck._ Without thinking, he looked over his shoulder at the bar to see Lali still sitting at a stool, talking to some random douchebag in a tweed jacket. _What the fuck._ She could definitely do better than _him._ Turning around, he saw Isaac with the lady whom he’d approached earlier. He had his hands on her ass and his tongue in her throat as they leaned against the wall, not bothering to even pretend that they were dancing. Rafi and Fernanda were gone, as usually was the case when they were out together. The two would disappear a couple of hours in to have some fun of their own before the night was over. Pablo was nowhere in sight. Nevada assumed he was probably getting his dick sucked by the girl he was dancing with earlier. Which wasn’t a bad idea, really.

“Hey, _papi_!”

Nevada looked back at the woman in front of him and raised an eyebrow in question.

“You want to get out of here?” she asked in a sultry, slightly slurred voice. “Do something a bit more _fun_?”

He knew what that meant. He could see a look in her eyes that he was very familiar with, working the business as he does. Simply put, she wanted to get high and fuck him. Or fuck him and then get high. The order of the activities varied from girl to girl, but the trade-off was always the same. These girls were happy to fuck him because they knew what he would give them. Once he made the mistake of calling one of them a whore. It was a fact and he stood by it, but still that did not end well for him.

Shaking off any reservations he had (which were based on him just not being the fucking mood), Nevada led the woman to the men’s restroom. As soon as the door of a vacant stall closed behind them, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him frantically and enthusiastically. Her hands were all over him, pulling at his belt and then at the buttons of his jeans.

Nevada wrapped his hands around her thighs and lifted her onto the tank of the toilet as he knelt on the lowered seat. She traced wet, sloppy kisses down his jaw and neck, sucking on his jugular as he pressed his crotch to hers. She whimpered, a fake, exaggerated noise. He frowned, and backed away a little. It didn’t really put him off, usually, because he knew exactly what to do to make the women he was with scream even when they were trying to be quiet. All it really needed was for him to get them to relax a bit and let him take over.

But he just wasn’t feeling it tonight. He had no idea why, but he just didn’t want to fuck this girl. He pulled away from her, having to hold her shoulders steady to keep her from chasing his mouth or sucking on his neck. He looked at her. In the dim light of the restroom, she looked almost sad: her makeup smudged and her hair messy. She had fevered eyes and he could see the trouble that filled them. _Fuck,_ what was he doing? He was in no place to sympathize with clients. _Fuck,_ what had gotten into him?!

“What’s your name, _amorcita_?”

She seemed surprised and dazed and flattered as she answered but Nevada was beginning to feel dizzy so he missed it when she spoke.

He blinked at her. “Lali?”

“No. _Lilly_.”

He chuckled humourlessly. “Of course,” he muttered, digging through his pockets.

“What?”

“Nothing. Open your mouth.”

She parted her lips and Nevada placed a tab of acid on her tongue. “Who are you here with, _amorcita?_ ” he asked.

She eyed him carefully. “Wi’ my fwends,” she said, her demeanour much more careful now that she’d gotten what she had wanted.

He nodded and stroked her cheeks. “Keep the tab on your tongue for as long as you’d like before swallowing, but I suggest at least ten minutes. The effects should kick in in about an hour. Go find your friends. Have them keep an eye on you because you will be tripping balls.”

Lilly nodded. Nevada helped her from the tank and gave her a small kiss on the lips before she left him alone in the stall.

He walked out after she was gone and stood in front of the mirror, studying his own reflection. Maybe it was the bad public room lighting but Nevada barely felt like he recognized himself in the mirror. What the _fuck_ was wrong with him tonight?

This had happened last time he came to the club, too, when they came to celebrate Nicolás’s prison sentence. He’d led a 20-something into the bathroom stall and had her leaning on her knees on the seat, her tiny dress bunched at her stomach as he fucked her hard. She had screamed his name when she came but whimpered when he kept going afterwards. “Please,” she’d begged. “It’s too sensitive.”

He could tell she wouldn’t have cared if he kept going. She was saying it so that he would fuck her through it and make her “forget the pain.” It was written all across the surprise and slight disappointment he saw on her face when he pulled out and let go of her completely. Nevada had zipped himself up before she could even offer to suck him off. To be honest, he’d been glad it was over. He just… wasn’t feeling it. He’d gotten himself hard thinking about La— about some other girl but it wasn’t worth it to keep it up.

After they fixed themselves up, he had drawn the girl two lines of coke for her to snort off the bathroom counter as he waited for his cock to go soft. The two of them left the bathroom with their arms wrapped around each other and no one suspected a thing to be out of the ordinary. To them, it was just typical Nevada Ramirez, doing business as usual.

But, _fuck_ , he knew. He knew. Something was wrong then and something was wrong now. Nevada couldn’t stand to look at his own reflection tonight and it drove him insane. When he left the restroom, rage had overtaken him. He spotted Lali on the dance floor, swaying her hips sexily to the beat of the song blaring through the speakers, her hands rested on the shoulders of that same tool in the tweed jacket. Nevada marched up to her, seeing red as he did.

“We need to talk,” he growled at her.

Lali blinked at him, slightly taken aback by hi sudden appearance at her side. “Excuse me?” she asked, her arms sliding from the _cabron_ ’s shoulders.

“We need to talk. _Right now_.” Repeated Nevada through gritted teeth.

“Hey, get off me!” she said, yanking her arm away as he tried to grab her.

Nevada grabbed her again and pulled her close. “ _I’m not giving you an option.”_ He hissed at her. “Come on.” Ignoring her protests, he dragged her out of the club, leaving the tweed motherfucker to stand, stunned, in the middle of the floor. Figures he’d be too much of a wimp to actually do anything.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” exclaimed Lali as Nevada pushed her out onto the dark street.

“Were you faking it?” he demanded.

“What?”

“ _Were you faking it?_ ”

“Faking what?”

Cursing, Nevada grabbed her arm and led her to the side to the building, in a narrow alley. “I asked you if you were faking it.”

She struggled against him and when he turned to her again, he could see the absolute hate that filled her eyes. “I swear, Nevada, if you don’t let go of me, I—”

He interrupted her. “Did you or did you not come?” he growled at her.

She stared at him for a moment, confused, but then she seemed to understand. “What, when I fucked you?”

God, he wanted to strangle her. “You didn’t fuck me,” he clarified, “ _I_ fucked _you._ ”

“No, I wasn’t faking,” she said, exasperated. “Now can I go?”

She turned to leave, but Nevada grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “You were awfully quiet.”

She looked up at him, completely appalled and confused. “So what?”

“So it didn’t sound very convincing.”

Lali narrowed her eyes at him. “You are fucking disgusting,” she spat. “You want me to fake a bunch of noises so you can get an ego boost?”

“No,” he hissed. “I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense for you to be all but screaming when we fucked the first time but not make a sound the second.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t fake orgasms, if that’s what you’re asking me,” she stated simply. “Why should I give men the satisfaction of thinking they finished me off when they didn’t? So they’d feel rewarded for doing a crappy fucking job?” She pushed on his arms but he didn’t let go of her. “Fuck off, Nevada,” she grumbled.

“That doesn’t explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“Why you were different,” he hissed, his hands tightening around her arms, squeezing the flesh hard. “ _Why_ were you different?”

Lali looked confused. “Why do you care?” she asked.

Fuck. Why _did_ he care? “Just tell me,” he said, his voice low.

She sighed. “I didn’t fake an orgasm the first time. The sounds may have been slightly exaggerated, as well as the _strength_ of the orgasm. But I didn’t fake it. The second time was much more… _authentic._ ”

He huffed and dropped his hands to his sides. “Fine.” He muttered, “I guess I can understand. You wanted something the first time.”

Lali nodded. “Yes, exactly,” she said. “And the second time was just for fun. Now goodbye—”

“Not so fast,” he said, putting his arm out to stop her as she moved to leave. “You’re not going back in there to dance with that tweed-wearing _pendejo_.”

Lali narrowed her eyes at him. “Why not?” she asked suspiciously.

“Because he’s fucking tool,” said Nevada simply, a mocking smile taking over his features. “He’d probably try to drug you too because he couldn’t get laid otherwise. Guys like him always—”

He didn’t finish his thought. “Wait, what did you say? Drug me _too_?” said Lali, suddenly very angry. “You mean you _knew_ that other guy tried to roofie me?!”

Nevada’s smile faltered. “Well, yea—”

“Then why didn’t you do anything, you asshole!?” she yelled, shoving him back, hard. “I thought I could trust you!!”

Nevada stumbled back, partly from her shove, partly from pure shock. “I thought you could handle it yourself!”

“I’m not immune to _rape_ , Nevada!”

“But you took care of it!”

“Yea, because I _recognized_ the guy!”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“You’re such a fucking dick!” she yelled.

“You mean that _motherfucker_ does this shit so much that he’s known for it?!”

She seemed a bit caught off guard by the comment, but recovered quickly. “Yes,” she said.

“ _Fucking hell._ I could kill him.”

“Yea, well, have fun with that,” said Lali, turning away from him. “I’m going home.”

“What? Why?” asked Nevada, following her.

“I’ve had enough of this night.”

“I thought you were having fun!”

“I _was_.”

“What happened?”

She spun to him quickly. “What do you _think_ happened, you _pendejo_?” she yelled. “ _You_ ruined it. Shouldn’t surprise me, really.” She turned on him again and kept walking.

“Lali, wait!” he said, jogging up to her. “ _Cariño,_ will you hold on for one fucking minute—”

“ _What?_ ” she snapped, turning to him again.

Nevada looked at her face. _Really_ looked at it. She was so fucking pissed off and tired and looked like she wanted rip his dick off. Her skin was flushed, her eyes frenzied and wet, and her lips swollen. She looked like she just came from sucking a dick rather than arguing with him and there was something very satisfying about that fact.

He knew what he was about to do would most likely go terribly, _terribly_ wrong, but he couldn’t fucking help it.

Nevada grabbed her face with his hands, his fingers tangling in her hair and his nails digging into her scalp. He pulled her face up towards his and kissed her rough. His lips smashed against hers and sucked and nipped at them, barely giving her enough time or space to move her own. He felt Lali tense up against him, but she didn't resist so he pressed on, willing her to either kiss him back or push him away.

God, he was so fucking angry. So _fucking_ pissed off, but he didn’t know what else to do. She was a bitch and she still wasn’t as trustworthy as the other men and she drove him up a fucking wall but all he knew was that he wanted to kiss her again. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her on top of him, kissing him like she had—

 _Fuck._ He moaned as Lali parted her lips and met his tongue with hers. He loosened his grip on her face to give her enough space to reciprocate the kiss as he softened it. His arms moved to wrap around her waist and pull her close as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he muttered against her lips.

“ _Chingate_ ,” she said in response, but kept kissing him hard, her nails digging into his scalp and Nevada groaned into her mouth as she did.

He could tell that this was going to end badly. He could feel it in his guts and his guts were never wrong. It had been gnawing at him ever since Lali entered his life and he just knew that he would regret fucking with her but for once, he didn’t care. He disregarded his instincts completely. This was what he wanted and if it came back to bite him in the ass, then so be it. For now, he didn’t give a shit.

Not a single fucking one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pendejo - asshole  
> chingate - fuck you/go fuck yourself


	16. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this chapter in 100% unnecessary and does absolutely nothing to further the plot of the story in any way whatsoever. In fact, if you don't even read this chapter, the story will still make complete and total sense. Good day.

Her sighs and gasps filled his ears and made him feel drunker than the beer ever could have. Her hands clutched at the dark leather seats of his car and her hips writhed but he followed the movements with his mouth. She had goose bumps up her thighs and he was unsure whether it was from the cold of the leather that bit into her exposed flesh or if it was from the way his breath fell onto her skin. Maybe it was a combination of the two. He and Lali had gone back into the bar after he kissed her and they’d tried to drink to forget what had just taken place, but it only brought them closer together until they finally stumbled into his car together, making Isaac and Pablo find other ways of getting back home. 

Nevada massaged the inside of her thighs with his thumbs as his tongue traced her opening. Her folds glistening, illuminated in the different colours of the passing lights of other cars and buildings. “ _Mierda,_ you taste incredible—” His speech was slurred from the beer and her movements were clumsy from the vodka. He slipped his tongue inside of her, flicking and lapping her juices before sucking on her labia. He alternated between the two actions as his nose nudged against her clit. The hard flesh of her stomach moved more and more rapidly as her breathing became heavier and Nevada slipped a hand underneath her shirt, tracing up until he wrapped it around her breast, cupping her over her bra. She shook at the cold of his leather jacket. Her nipples were hard against the thick fabric of her bra and he felt his dick strain against the fabric of his jeans.

“So good, so _fucking good—_ ”

Her thighs were trembling and rubbing against his neck. The lipstick marks Lilly had left there, the ones Lali pretended not to have noticed but Nevada knew she did, rubbed off on her thighs and left pink smudges on her skin. Her hands found his and she pressed her palms against his, squeezing tightly as he sped up the movement of his tongue against her. He was sucking and swallowing everything she gave him, moaning and humming as he did. The vibrations made her head spin.

“God, I could eat you out all day—”

Her legs wrapped around his head and he had to hold her hips down to keep her in control. She was panting and shaking and sweating and Nevada was fucking loving it. The heels of her feet dug hard into his back as he shook his face against her. The pressure on her clit was overwhelming and he was still lapping at her like a man starved.

“Oh, Lali—”

Her orgasm ripped through her hard and she swore she blacked out for a minute. She felt weightless and heavy at the same time, the pleasure like waves crashing to shore. Rebecca melted against the seats and Nevada moved to watch her and make sure she was still breathing. Her eyes closed, her mouth open, her cheeks flushed. Completely silent. Her chest was heaving and the neckline of her shirt was drenched in sweat. He moved his soaked face away from her folds and replaced it with his hand. He pressed his palm hard against her clit, pushing the pads of his fingers against her shuddering cunt.

She still hadn’t come down from her orgasm when he sunk his fingers inside her. She jerked against him, but his other hand was firm on her hip and there was nowhere in the cramped backseat where she could go. Shock and pleasure crossed her face and he felt his cock twitch. He was desperate to fuck her but he wanted her to know what he was capable of first. He pumped three fingers inside of her, thrusting them in and out of her fast and hard, causing her wetness to spill onto his hands and her thighs and the leather seats beneath them. She covered her face with her hands in an attempt to ground herself as she felt the pleasure rocking her from the inside out.

“You’re so hot, Lali, so fucking sexy—”

She responded to the words, grinding and thrusting against his fingers harder every time he spoke. “That’s it, baby. Work your cunt against _papi_ ’s hand—” She threw her head back and gritted her teeth, her breaths coming out jagged and uneven. “Squeeze, baby, squeeze—”

Nevada sunk his fingers deep inside of her, so far that she trembled against the entrance. He curled them inside her, over and over, hitting her g-spot, and brought the thumb of his other hand to her clit. Her eyes flew open as he mercilessly rubbed her bud back and forth while keeping up the movements of his other hand. She was trembling and completely flushed and looked fucking spectacular and he let her know that. “Take off your shirt,” he demanded and she obliged, her hands clumsy and trembling. It was a few minutes before her shirt and bra joined her shorts at the floor of the car.

Nevada wrapped his mouth around Rebecca’s nipple, biting down hard and then sucking, then biting again. He felt her trembling breaths fall sharply against his hair as he played with her breasts. Her shaking fingers wrapped in his hair and clutched at it desperately and he moaned at her nails digging into his scalp. His hands hadn’t slowed down their movements against her and he could tell she was almost at the edge now. He moved his face to hers and watched her drunken eyes try to stay open. She was trembling underneath him, her muscles tensed and her skin fevered. “I know you’re close,” he whispered. “I know you want to come. Do it, baby. Come for me…”

She did. She came, harder than before, around his thick fingers. He talked her through it, murmuring admirations as he kissed her eyes. One hand left her cunt to stroke her cheek, coating it with her juices and the second stayed at her core, rubbing her clit as the effects of her orgasm spread through her. Her legs twitched in time with the movements of his thumb against her. Her heavy breath fell against his neck and Nevada listened intently, wanting her to moan or to whimper or to scream, but she only sighed.

 When she stopped shaking, he pulled himself away from her and sat up on his knees between her still spread, still bare legs. He watched her face, studying the dazed expression. God, she was so damn sexy like this. If he had to pick one thing to look at for the rest of his life, this would be it. “Open your eyes and look at me,” he breathed.

Slowly, she opened her heavy lids.

“Watch me.”

He unbuckled his belt slowly and undid his jeans slowly, teasingly, before reaching inside and pulling out his hard cock. He smirked at Rebecca’s deep breath and lick of her lips. He slowly fisted his cock for her, watching her watch his movements as he spread the precome around the head and down the shaft, loving the lights of New York bouncing off her sheening skin.

Lowering himself to her core, Nevada moved to enter her, but she stopped him with her hands on his shoulders. “No,” she whispered. “Take your clothes off first.”

He briefly considered ignoring her request and fucking her anyway, but he thought better of it. Sitting back up, Nevada quickly removed his jacket and undid the buttons of his shirt. Rebecca watched his hands as they worked on the buttons, his thick fingers moving quickly over the plastic. When he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, Rebecca admired his chest: covered in dark hair except for the places where he was scarred. When she moved her eyes up to his face, he met her eyes with a lustful glare. She smiled.

He lowered himself to her once again. His pants were around his knees still but he didn’t think it worth the effort to remove them and Rebecca certainly wasn’t protesting. He stroked his length against her folds softly before he entered her. His hands grabbed her face and he watched her carefully as he slowly, slowly pushed inside of her as deep as he could, groaning as she clenched around his length. She let out the smallest whimper, quiet and barely even there, but he smiled in satisfaction. She was sensitive from the orgasms she’d just had, but he was desperate. He pulled out of her and pushed in again, this time much harder but he thrust just as deep. The feeling caused Rebecca to gasp and wrap her hands around his biceps.

Nevada’s thrusts became harder and faster, his groans grew louder and he fucked Rebecca as deep as he could. He nails dug into his arms and her pants fell against his face. He pressed his open mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as she shuddered beneath him. He growled when she wrapped her legs around his hips, pushing him deeper with her heels. “Fuck yes…”

His thrusts became erratic, his skin slapping hard against hers so loudly that it drowned out the sounds of the city as well as his own heart hammering against his ribs. “I know you want it… I know you want it, baby, I know you love this—”

Her cunt felt so tight and hot against his length, so fucking delicious, and he wanted to keep going until she was begging him to stop but he didn’t know how long he could hold out. He had to make sure she felt the same.

Nevada shifted his body upwards, bracing his hands over Rebecca’s head in order to get more leverage. He watched as her eyes widened and she let out a sharp gasp at the change in angle that now allowed his length to stroke her clit with every thrust. Her vision blurred as he fucked her hard. The gold cross on his chain felt heavy as it dangled from his neck and rested on her chest. She felt like it was holding her down.

He was pushing in so deep, much deeper than he had had the other times he fucked her. Maybe it was just the vodka but she swore she was seeing stars. Or were those just the city lights? “Fuck…” she whispered, but Nevada couldn’t hear her. He threw his head back and let out a hoarse moan.

“You’re so fucking tight, _shit!_ ”

Rebecca closed her eyes tight as one of his hands found her breast and squeezed the flesh. She winced as he scraped his nail over the nipple before twisting it between two fingers. “This is what you want, isn’t it? I know th— _look at me._ Don’t close your eyes, _watch me_ —this is what you want. Only I can give it to y—”

He cut himself off with a loud groan. He pumped his dick in and out of Rebecca as he came, his twitching cock triggering her third orgasm. She bit her lips and sighed as he yelled profanities into the cramped space of the care. His come spilled onto his legs and hers, and he settled his body over hers to help her body’s trembles die down.

He watched her face slowly, her dazed eyes meeting his, her skin sweaty like his, her skin flushing like his. Neither of them of thinking straight. He knew that, and so did she. Whereas this could have happened when they were both sober, it was clear that it would never have gone this far. “Lali…” he whispered, his speech still slurred.

The car rolled to a stop and the driver announced through the partition that they were home. Rebecca gave Nevada the smallest smile but didn’t say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mierda - shit/fuck/damn


	17. Do That Which is Good for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know much about the church so forgive me if this is incorrect. If you see any mistakes, leave a comment and I will fix it asap.

“Do you always wear that?”

Nevada took a puff of his cigarette and looked at Rebecca questioningly. “Wear what?” he asked blowing a cloud of smoke in her direction.

“ _That_ ,” she said, nodding at the gold cross dangling from his neck. Her hands were busy tying her shoes.

“My necklace? Yes.” He said, shrugging on his jacket before calling out to the rest of them. “You guys ready to go?” The question was met with a myriad of answers all at once. _One sec! Almost! No! Wait wait wait—_

“But why?” asked Rebecca. “You leave it on even when we fuck. Isn’t that sacrilege or something?”

Nevada rolled his eyes at her. “I also wear it when I go to business meetings and when I have to _take care_ of someone. Those things aren’t very Christian either,” he said, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray on the table by the door. “I’m not ashamed of anything I do, Lali. I am not going to pretend that taking the necklace off will suddenly hide me from God.”

“You’re going to go to hell,” said Rebecca.

“I guess I’ll meet you there,” he replied.

Before she could reply, Fernanda quickly approached the foyer, carting an annoyed looking Carlos behind her. “Okay, okay, we’re ready!” She said.

“Great,” muttered Nevada, opening the front door. “The boys are already there and Rafi’s waiting in the car; now let’s go.”

Even after Rebecca had gained access to the Ramirez house, she had had to keep going to church every Sunday. If she stopped, Nevada would have grown suspicious about why she was always there before and not now.

The group usually dispersed inside the actual building. Fernanda, Rafi, and Carlos would try to find seats as close as they could to the front of the church but the rest of them would sit wherever they wanted. Nevada usually isolated at at the very back, his hands in his lap, a nervous look on his face, but lately, he’d guide Rebecca to sit next to him. He didn’t say much about it and he didn’t behave any differently, but the fact that she was allowed to be anywhere near him at church was significant. Something always seemed to come over him inside the church walls.

Rebecca wasn’t religious. In fact, she was an atheist, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t understand what religion meant to people. What she struggled with understanding was what religion meant to Nevada. What did he think about when he listened to the minister speak? It couldn’t be guilt, could it? She never once saw his enter the confessional.

Today, Rebecca sat on his right. He was in her line of sight as she looked at the stage but he couldn’t see her without turning his head and she found herself wondering about him and about what she may mean to him. Nothing, surely.

The day after the club, she’d woken up with a massive headache and the chills. To clear her head, she’d taken a long, hot bath. The shower made her feel dizzy and besides, it was really hard to stay standing when there was so much soreness between her legs. When she came back out into her room, Nevada was lying on his back on her bed and Rebecca was suddenly _very_ aware of how short her towel was, not that that mattered because it was discarded in seconds. She lay across her mattress and wrapped her hand and lips around his hard cock. He came in her mouth, groaning as he stroked her damp hair, and she spat it out into a tissue from the box on her side table.

The next day, he came into her room right after she announced that she was going to bed. “Everyone knows that ‘I’m going to bed’ actually means ‘let’s fuck all night,’” he’d said. Rebecca wasn’t exactly pleased with him so she sat on his face until she was coming. Only then did she let him fuck her how he wanted to—quickly and deeply.

The day after that had been far too busy for them to do anything so the next morning, Nevada stepped into the shower behind her. He fucked her hard with his hands covering hers and her face against the glass wall. Her gasps had echoed and so had his groans. The boys had looked at her knowingly when she entered the living room and Rebecca blushed when she realized they’d all heard. Nevada, on the other hand, looked smug. It’d given him such a rush that he fucked her again that night.

Two days later, she stirred awake to Nevada entering her room. He climbed into her bed behind her and kissed her neck. His body bent to mimic hers and he entered her slowly. His thrusts were slow and gentle as Rebecca fully came into consciousness and then, only then, did he speed up his movements, his cock hitting all the right places and making her shudder. Later that same night, he fingered her under the table at his favourite restaurant. She blew him on the car ride home.

Rebecca had hickies lining her stomach and chest and she was wondering if the scratches his nails left on her thighs would become permanent scars. The little habits he did were beginning to drive her insane—the way he sucked his cigar, the way he swirled his whiskey glass, the way he bit his lip when he was concentrating… It wasn’t long before she was beginning to go into his room to fuck.

One day, a couple of weeks into their newfound arrangement, Nevada cuffed her to the bed and asked her if she’d ever done this before. She’d shook her head and said, “I’m usually the one cuffing others.” He’d been more turned on by that than he would care to admit, but the way he fucked her gave him away.

He liked to stay clothed while Rebecca lay completely bare and she liked to undress him as he thrust into her. He liked to wrap his hand around her neck but she wouldn’t let him choke her. He liked pinning her down and roughing her up and leaving bruises and she’d whisper _harder_. He wanted to hear her scream but she said she didn’t fake noises. He liked to be in full control of her but she never let him do anything she didn’t want to, even if it was as simple as pulling her hair. He liked it when girls deep-throated him so she was practicing. She wasn’t shy and never let him take without giving. He liked to fuck out his frustrations but she didn’t let him fuck her without foreplay. He would demand that she say his name but she would just kiss him instead. The two of them were getting along and Nevada wasn’t hooking up with anyone else when they went out to clubs together. He’d made it clear that she was not to fuck anyone other than him as well but Rebecca hadn’t been interested in that anyway. One drunken night, she’d even banged him in the bathroom stall, like she never thought she would. They knew each other’s habits and bodies well and although it felt fucking incredible, it didn’t mean anything.

Rebecca had no problem separating work and pleasure. She had no problem compartmentalizing. She knew that fucking Nevada regularly like he wanted her to gave her a much better chance of getting what she wanted. He was already letting her come to most of the meetings and she was learning more and more about the details of the Halloween deal. Whether or not what she was doing was morally wrong didn’t matter because she was getting what she needed. It was the quickest, easiest way to get her job done and she would be doing it even if she didn’t enjoy it. But she did enjoy it and she’d come to terms with that. It was a matter of simply reasoning with herself: if this is something that needs to be done, why not enjoy it as well? What is the need to pretend to hate it? Besides, he would be much more willing to give her what she wanted if he knew that she was loving every second of when they were together.

Still, at times, a sharp, devastating pang of guilt would shoot through her as she would imagine Diego’s dead body, his head collapsing from the bullet hole. How would he have felt if he knew that she was fucking the same man that put him in ground, the same man that she hated with every fibre of her being?

A heavy hand on her shoulder snapped Rebecca out of her daze. “It’s over,” said Nevada. “Let’s go?”

She blinked up at him. “Uh, actually…” she said, turning her head and eyeing the minister as he walked along the side of the church towards the confessional and an idea washed over her. Many nonbelievers must admit how wonderful the idea of confession was. If not for forgiveness, it could be just a simple way of letting go of bad thoughts. “I was hoping to do something before we left.”

Nevada and the rest hung around at the back of the church, mingling and talking to other members as Rebecca stepped into the confessional as soon as the minister sat down.

“There’s been something I’ve been struggling with,” said Rebecca. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know how this confession this works, really, but I just… need to… I don’t know.”

“It’s fine, my child,” the voice felt like velvet in the small, dark space. “What is troubling you?”

“I feel like I am betraying someone. Someone that I really love, but I know that that’s not true because he’s dead so—”

“One must keep promises even after death, my child.”

“Right. Right, of course,” said Rebecca, chewing her bottom lip.

“What have you done?”

“I didn’t make Diego a promise,” she admitted slowly. “We never really had any sort of spoken agreement. It was implied, but never…” she struggled to find the right word for this and settled with, “ _Consummated._ ”

“You were married?”

“No.”

“I see.”

There was a short, heavy silence before Rebecca continued. “I feel like I’m doing the wrong thing,” she said softly. “But I know that I am not. I am doing what must be done but I feel like I am spitting on Diego’s grave. I…” her voice broke. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”

Before the minister could say anything else, Rebecca left confession and speed walked to the church entrance. _I love him. I love him so much…_ That is what she wanted to say and that was the truth. She loved Diego as a friend and she loved him as a lover and she loved him as more. She loved his as much as she’d ever loved anything or anyone in her life. He was her family, he was her rock, he was her everything. No matter how much she told herself and everyone else that she was doing this all for the greater good, for the wellbeing of Washington Heights, she knew deep down that that was not the truth. The truth was that the biggest reason she wanted Nevada Ramirez dead was so that she could know that, in the off chance souls and an afterlife actually existed, Diego would be at peace. And what was she doing instead? She was fucking the very man who blew a bullet through his skull. _Fuck._

Tears streamed down her face as Rebecca stepped out into the Sunday sunlight and she wiped them away angrily. She couldn’t break, she couldn’t. She couldn’t let herself feel this. Not here, not now.

“Lali.”

She looked over her shoulder at Isaac, standing there with his face twisted into a worried expression. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Rebecca dried her eyes and turned to him. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

“We both know you’re lying, Lali,” he said, stepping towards her. “But I won’t ask if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Rebecca nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I really am okay, though. I just started thinking about shit I shouldn’t think about.”

He stepped to her and bundled her in his arms. He was so tall and large that Rebecca felt like he engulfed her, but it was nice and comforting. She leaned her head against his chest, closed her eyes, and waited until her heart slowed down. There truly was something so calming about Isaac; an air of trust and loyalty emanated from him all the time and when she felt okay, they walked back into the church with their arms locked.

“Why didn’t you go after her yourself?” said Fernanda, her back to the entrance so she couldn’t see them coming.

“She wouldn’t have liked that,” Nevada muttered, facing the same way as his sister. “She wouldn’t want me to see her cry. Isaac knows her more than I do. He can help her better than I can.”

Fernanda looked at him and opened her mouth to speak, but she caught glimpse of Isaac and Rebecca. “Hey, love,” she said, smiling. “You okay?”

Rebecca nodded, “Absolutely.”

Fernanda took her hand. “Good,” she said. “Because Ana’s coming over and we need to pick which dress Sofia’s going to wear for her quinceañera! We really should find a dress for you, too, Lali. How do you feel about red…”

Rebecca laughed as Fernanda led her out of the church and when she looked over her shoulder, she swore she saw Nevada take a quivering breath as he followed them out.


	18. Partners in Crime (with Benefits)

Rebecca sat with her eyes closed and her head leaning against the seat. She was trying her hardest to ignore the sound of Pablo incessantly tapping his fingernails against the glass of the car window but it was difficult to do when there was nothing else to focus her attention on. God, did he have to be so damn irritating all the fucking time?!

It was the last week of September and the weather was colder now. She’d gone up to Nevada earlier while he was in the game room playing pool with the boys and asked him for her cut of the money and he was unreasonably surprised at her wanting it.

“Why should I pay you?” he’d asked.

“What do you mean _why_? I work for you, which means I get paid.”

“Yea, maybe. But I am giving you a place to live so…” He wasn’t letting her distract him from the game and lined up his cue.

“So? Don’t the rest of the people that live here get paid?” she demanded.

“Yes, they do,” said Nevada. “But that’s different.” He sunk a stripe in the pocket and smiled.

Rebecca looked at him incredulously. “How the _fuck_ is it different?!”

He didn’t have an answer to that.

“Look, Nevada,” she said. “I’ve been in the same clothes all summer and I am _sick_ of it. On top of that, they are all summer clothes and it’s getting colder now so I need warmer shit. On top of _that_ , Sofia’s quinceañera is coming up on the 26th and I still don’t have a dress. I only have a couple of weeks and—”

“ _Fine._ Fine,” he said, lining up the next cue. “I’ll take you shopping.”

“What the fuck, Nevada, no,” snapped Rebecca.

“Excuse me?”

“Four words,” she said. “Fuck you, pay me.”

Nevada took a shot and missed his target. “Damnit,” he muttered before standing up straight. He turned to her. “You’re an angry little thing, aren’t you?”

Rebecca crossed her arms. “I don’t see why you won’t just pay me.”

He pursed his lips. “How do I know you won’t just take the money and run?” he asked.

She faltered. His tone was that of a joke but she could tell that he legitimately was concerned that she would just take off. But where did that concern come from? She certainly never hinted at leaving. “Fine,” she muttered. “Just give me enough to go shopping. A thousand or something.”

He eyed her carefully, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll give you two grand for now,” he said. “But that’s not just for shopping. That’s your monthly pay.”

Rebecca smiled. “We’ll talk about it.”

Nevada moved to respond with a snarky comeback but decided against it. He instead left the room to get to the safe, coming back a few minutes later with a wad of hundred-dollar bills. He shoved it into Rebecca’s hands and went back to the pool table. “Pablo, go take Lali shopping,” he ordered. Both Pablo and Rebecca protested and both insisted that Rafi or Isaac take her instead if an escort was truly necessary, but Nevada didn’t budge. “Too late,” he said. “It’s done. Now go.” He spoke again as the two of them turned to leave. “Oh, and Lali?”

“Yes?”

“Buy something black for the quince. With a… _nice_ neckline.”

 

It was fine, really. The more Rebecca thought about it, the better it was that he sent her out with Pablo because 1. Nevada won’t suspect she’s up to anything if one of his own men are with her and 2. Pablo wouldn’t want to spend too much time with her everywhere she went. And so the two of them sat in the escalade, Pablo in the passenger’s seat next to the very young driver, and Rebecca sitting directly behind him, mentally going over the plan. It was a simple plan, but it involved a bit of sneaking around. She had memorized all the names, fake and real, of the people that were going to be carted to Canada on Halloween and all she had to do was give those names to an officer who will be meeting her at the mall. She had her cellphone on her and so they could track her exact movements and the exchange will happen at the most convenient time.

When Nevada was around, Pablo did whatever Rebecca told him to. And if he didn’t, Nevada would stare at him until he complied. Over the past four and a half weeks, she’d gone farther and farther up the group and now Nevada felt comfortable with leaving her in charge for continuous periods of time. He let her control some situations, and even talk business in the meetings with other gangs. There had been numerous times when the two of them would make out or get handsy in front of rivals. They’d discussed it beforehand—it was a way of establishing dominance. But sometimes, Rebecca would be the one to negotiate while Nevada sucked on her neck. This always threw both rivals and Nevada’s own men off because no one really realized just how much power Rebecca had.

On night, when they were all free from working, Rebecca turned the radio on in her room and an old favourite song of hers blasted through the speakers. She smiled and danced. It was strange, this feeling of ease and happiness, but she gave into it and swayed her hips slowly to the beat, moving in circles, dipping low, stretching high, stroking herself, and throwing back her head, until she felt strong arms twisting her around and pushing her against the wall. She squealed as Nevada kissed her neck and rubbed her through the panties under her short dress.

“How did you know I was going to walk in, _cariño_?” he growled in her ear as he pressed his finger against her clit.

Rebecca sighed contently. “I didn’t.”

“Mm, mm, mm…” he licked and nipped at her neck as his fingers pressed against her increasingly wetting cunt. “Nobody dances like that when they think nobody’s watching,” he said.

Rebecca laughed. “ _Papi_ , _everybody_ dances like that when they think nobody’s watching.”

Nevada growled, a low sound from the base of his throat, and pushed his fingers inside of her. He stroked her as she undid his pants and once his hard cock was out, he hooked one of her legs around him and pushed himself into her entrance. She laughed as he fucked her and he kissed the sound from her lips. The song played in the background and the movement of Nevada’s hips reflected the beat. When the song changed, so did his rhythm.

Halfway through the third song, while Rebecca’s nipple was in Nevada’s mouth, the door opened and Pablo walked in.

“Listen, Nevada, I—oh _shit._ ”

“What do you want, _cabron_?” Nevada groaned between thrusts.

Pablo made eye contact with Rebecca and licked his lips before answering. “Kim called about the Minnesota deal,” he said. “He wants to know if the 28th is good for a meeting.” He watched Rebecca’s every move as he spoke, watching her writhe as Nevada fucked her, watching her breasts bounce, watching her legs twitch. It made her was to puke.

“It’s fine,” muttered Nevada, the last bit of his words turning into a moan. “Fuck, Lali…”

“Okay, sir,” said Pablo, still eyeing Rebecca.

“Pablo, before I forget,” she said suddenly. “Call the Hernandez family and tell them to have their payment by Monday. Or else.”

She could tell he was taken aback by her ordering him while in a compromising position (in his mind) but Nevada didn’t think twice about it. Good. He had to learn that he couldn’t just get away with treating her like a walking pair of tits.

“Yea. Okay,” he mumbled, clearly frustrated, but he didn’t move.

Rebecca laughed. “What, do you want some popcorn?” she asked.

At that, Nevada turned his head to look at him. “What the fuck are you still doing here, you little shit?” He snapped. “Get out!”

With that, Pablo was gone. Rebecca laughed again but it quickly turned into a gasp when Nevada dropped to his knees and buried his face between her legs. If only the _pendejo_ had seen that…

That incident was a defining one. Newsflash: Lali Rosa is not Nevada’s little _zorra._ She is his partner in crime (with benefits.)

Nevada himself acted differently around her. He was less guarded and he joked around with her more. He spoke with her like he spoke with his men when they were having a night off. He didn’t make insulting comments about her being too stupid or too female and instead he asked for her opinions on things. He took her to clubs and he took her to restaurants. One day, he even took her to an aquarium to watch the sharks. It was getting easier to look at him and pretend that he was a decent person. Sometimes, she even caught herself liking him, but all she really had to do was think about Diego to make that go away.

Rebecca spent roughly four hours shopping. She bought a handful of nice clothes and a dress for the quinceañera: a black lace dress with full sleeves and a high neckline, but with no back. Simple, knee-length, elegant. It was probably not what Nevada had in mind but she knew he would love it.

Pablo was dragging his feet by the end of it all, whining and wanting to go home like a fucking two year old. “Just one more shop that I want to go to,” said Rebecca as she led him to the Victoria’s Secret and he froze when he was confronted with a ten-foot poster of a woman in a thong. Rebecca swore she even saw him _blush._

“I am _not_ going in there.”

 _That’s what I was counting on._ “Suit yourself. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Inside, she looked around for a handful of minutes until she finally was approached by a tall woman who introduced herself as Officer Kate Mercer of the NYPD. A quick look at her badge and a couple of questions confirmed that Brian did, in fact, send her. Rebecca grabbed a handful of bras and asked a sales consultant for a change room and Mercer followed her two minutes later. By then, Rebecca had written down all the information that she promised to Brian and gave it to the officer.

“We are one step closer to finally nailing this guy,” said Rebecca as she handed over the very unofficial looking piece of paper.

“You’re really brave for doing this,” said Mercer. “How do you do it?”

She shrugged. “You just have to get into the mindset,” she said. After some thought, she added. “You have to just remember that it isn’t real.”

Before she left, Rebecca decided to buy some of the lingerie she’d grabbed after all. She had a lot of money left over and could easily afford a few things. She loved having new lingerie to wear and Nevada would be more than happy.


	19. Trust and Love and what Rebecca Needs

Rebecca looked at the slumbering man next to her, his mouth open and his breathing heavy and even. Every once in a while, he let out a small moan or grunt, but otherwise he slept soundlessly. He was laying on his stomach, as always, with his hands still cuffed behind his back. She’d told him she would take them off only when she felt like it. She had planned on removing them tomorrow, some time in the early afternoon.

She’d waited in his room in a dress. Not very sexy, but not very modest, rather just a dress that she would wear on a regular day. Behind her back, she held handcuffs.

When he came in, she told him it was his turn.

“My turn for what?” he’d asked.

She walked over to him and stroked his face gently, her thumb grazing lightly over his parted lips. “To beg,” she whispered. Before he could respond, Rebecca had Nevada down on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back. “I didn’t think it was very fair,” she breathed in his ear, “that only one of us gets played with.”

Nevada let out a chortle. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

She walked around to face him. “I told you before, baby,” she said. “I’m usually the one in control.” With that, she sat on the bed and slipped out of the dress she was wearing to reveal the black lingerie she had on underneath. She spread her legs and Nevada ate her out as she wrapped a fist in his hair.

He wasn’t used to the dynamic, but he’d been surprised by how he… didn’t exactly hate it. Rebecca made him crawl, she sat on his face, she gagged him, and she teased him. She even spanked him at one point but he didn’t appreciate that very much. He was desperate by the time she finally let him fuck her and he came in seconds. His head rolled back, drenched in sweat, as Rebecca wiped the semen from his stomach. “As much as I appreciate you changing things up,” he panted. “You are never doing that ever again.”

She laughed and kissed his face. “I thought it was very fun.”

“I’m sure you did,” he snorted. “But I didn’t beg like you said I would so you were unsuccessful.”

“Your whimpers sufficed.”

“I didn’t _whimper_ ,” he hissed. “Now uncuff me.”

“I will when I feel like it,” she said, lying down beside him on the bed. When he protested too much, she threatened to gag him again and he begrudgingly stopped, before turning over onto his side in order to lie in a more comfortable position.

He fell asleep very quickly, and Rebecca, instead of just leaving, stayed for a bit to watch him. His hair was matted to his forehead and his cheeks were completely flushed. She had really wanted to teach him a lesson tonight: that she could control him just as easily as he _thought_ he could control her. She hadn’t expected to have so much fun with it. But then again, she hadn’t expected to like it when he cuffed her to his bed. He had teased her and played with her for over an hour before he finally fucked her and in the end, she came five times (a record!)

They’d both known that night that he wasn’t really controlling her. He knew that she would never have let him do that to her if she hadn’t been 100% willing, and she knew that he wouldn’t have touched her at all if she didn’t want him to.

It’d been the same tonight.

Rebecca sighed and stretched out on the bed. She was starting to get really tired and decided to get some sleep. She uncuffed the man, deciding not to be mean. She removed his cross and slipped her thong around his neck like a necklace in place of it: a silly little surprise for when he woke up the next morning.

Pulling on one of Nevada’s button-down shirts and a pair of boxers from his closet, she made her way down the stairs to go to her bedroom. It was three in the morning and the house was quiet and dark, except for the light coming from the kitchen. Rebecca walking in on her way to her room to turn it off, assuming someone had just left it on, and instead came face to face with Fernanda sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey,” she said before taking a sip of the milk she had in front of her.

Rebecca frowned. “Are you okay, Fernanda?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly. “I just couldn’t sleep.” She took another gulp before looking at Rebecca again. “Coming from Nevada’s room?”

She blushed, knowing how bad she must seem: smudged makeup, messy hair, wearing Nevada’s clothes. “Uh, yes,” she said, letting out an uncomfortable laugh. “This is kind of embarrassing…”

Fer smiled reassuringly. “Oh, no, don’t be embarrassed,” she said, waving Rebecca off. “It’s not like I didn’t know.”

“Right.”

“But don’t you want to sleep upstairs?” she asked.

Rebecca shook her head. “I like sleeping in my own bed,” she said simply.

Fernanda smiled knowingly. “My brother used to hog the covers and kick in his sleep when he was a kid. I hated sharing a bed with him on vacations,” she said, her voice sounding far away. “Does he still do that?”

Rebecca shifted from one foot to the other and crossed her arms in front of her. “I don't know, actually,” she said hesitantly. Her words hung in the air for a moment before finding their way to Fernanda, whose expression become much more solemn. The implications were obvious but Rebecca spoke before Fernanda could. “I'm going to go to bed,” she said, turning to leave. “Have a nice night.”

“Listen, Lali… can I…” Rebecca paused and turned to the other woman, who now looked nervous in addition to upset. “Can I say something?”

“Of course.” She said but she suddenly wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else.

“It's just that… I know that you and Nevada have been getting pretty close lately,” Fernanda said slowly, as if she was having trouble finding the words. “I just want you to be careful.”

Rebecca chuckled. “Thank you for your concern, Fernanda, but I can handle myself.” She turned again to leave but the other woman stopped her.

“That's not what I mean,” she said. After a pause for contemplation, she spoke again. “My brother, love him to death, is actually pretty simple and easy to understand. He's been with girls before, you know, exclusively—sometimes for a week or so, and sometimes for even a couple of months and…” she let out a short breath. “This is different, though.”

Rebecca walked towards the woman until she stood across from where she was sitting at the table. “Okay.”

“He trusts you. He doesn't trust people easily, especially not people he's sleeping with and I want you to be careful with him.” Fernanda said. “He has never been this close with a woman before. You're…living with him…in a way, and you're actually part of this world and—”

“What are you saying?” Interrupted Rebecca. “Do you not think I'm trustworthy?”

Fernanda’s head snapped up in surprise. “No, Lali, listen—”

“What did I do?” 

“Nothing!” she said. “Nothing, it's… it's Nevada.” 

“What about him?”

“He's a fucking _idiot_ , okay!?” she said, loudly.

Rebecca froze. She couldn’t remember any other time that Fernanda had cursed. “What?”

She gestured her to sit down and when she did, she continued. “Listen,” she sighed. “Him being with you is different than him being with the girls he is usually with. In other words, you are not some girl he met at the club who just wants an adventure. You are closer. You live here. You go to business meetings with him. You _saved his life_. He _trusts_ you on that level and he has never ever dated anyone who he trusts like that.”

“Well, we aren't dating so you don't have to worry about that,” corrected Rebecca.

“Yes, I do,” countered Fernanda. “You're not ‘dating,’” she put air quotes around the word, “But that doesn't mean he thinks of you just as a girl he's fucking.”

“Fernanda—”

“No, _listen to me_ ,” she said forcefully. “Rafi _loves_ me. He loves Carlos. He would protect us with his life if he had to without thinking twice about it.” Her words were deliberately slow, her voice thick with conviction. “Nevada doesn't understand that. To him, family, the people who share your blood, who you grew up with, is what you die for. Everything else may as well be nothing. In fact, it is.”

Rebecca watched, worried but fully attentive, as Fernanda pressed one shaking hand into the other.

“But if he begins to think of you as family,” she continued, her voice still slow but no longer steady, “then you need to know that he will give you everything until he is left with nothing.”

Worry welled up in Rebecca as she watched her friend’s eyes grow wetter and wetter until the tears overflowed. “Fernanda, what happened?” she asked softly, reaching over the table to take her hands but she pulled them away from her and into her lap.

With a deep, unsteady breath, she continued. “My son died in a fire four years ago and Nevada went on a rampage. He acted as if it was because of the money he lost—and to an extent, it was. But beyond that, the anger was all about getting back at the people that hurt Andreas. My little Andy. Showing them that he couldn't break and he couldn't go soft,” her voice broke and she had to pause to regain her composure.

Rebecca shivered and looked at the woman in front of her. Fernanda was strong and loving and had made her feel welcome. She’d treated her like one of her own and it hurt Rebecca more than she ever would have thought to see her look so broken.

But when Fernanda spoke again her voice was harder. “Nevada doesn't know how to love.” She said. “He feels it, but he has no idea what to do with it. He doesn't know that love is about giving yourself to that person. To him, love is doing what feels good to him, even if it means deliberately hurting the people that he loves. I begged him to stop. I begged him to just listen to me, to let it go and _be there_ for me. That’s all that I had wanted. But he didn't stop. He left me in this house for weeks while he went on his stupid fucking manhunt to find the kids that killed Andy. I had never spoken to anyone who lived here. I told him I wasn’t comfortable staying with strangers but he left me anyway. Six months pregnant and completely alone. He didn’t come back until those kids were dead.”

Rebecca’s stomach wretched. What kind of a monster would do such a disgusting thing?! “I am so sorry,” she murmured to Fernanda.

“It's okay,” she said. “I came out of darkness with a family. Carlos, Rafi. They're here for me when I need them. I know Nevada is, too, but I can never go to him with anything that really matters. And that's why…” she paused, looking at Rebecca carefully. “That's why you need to know that he could never love you the way you need him to.”

Rebecca chewed on her lip for a moment, contemplating what to say to such a confession. She shouldn’t be surprised. She did know what Nevada Ramirez was capable of all along. And, of course, knowing this would be enough to put him in prison for life but there was no way that she could get Fernanda to testify against her brother. She definitely couldn’t turn him in due to hearsay alone. It was best just to wait it out until Halloween.

“Thank you for telling me all of this, Fernanda, but you should rest easy,” she finally said. “You know Nevada and what he may want or need, but you don't know what I need.” She stood and stepped out from her chair. “If it is ever even slightly necessary, I'll be careful with his heart, but he could never love me. He trusts me. He fucks me. He pays me. That's what I need. That's _all_ I need. Love isn't in the picture.”

Fernanda looked at her, perplexed, as if there was a point to her story that Rebecca had missed entirely. “Lali—”

“I'm tired,” she interrupted. “I'm going to bed. You should, too.” With that, she turned and headed back to her bedroom.


	20. Trust and Love and what Nevada Needs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit intense and I don't know, maybe I went too far? I don't know, but I do have a lot more planned. Please let me know what you all think in the comments.

Being with Nevada was full of highs. Everyday, every moment, felt good. In the hours she spent alone, Rebecca became conscious of herself, of her duty, of her thoughts. They were very persistent. _I hate Nevada Ramirez. I want him to rot in jail, and then in hell. I am Rebecca Meza, special officer of the law. I protect. I catch bad guys. I hunt people like Ramirez. It is my livelihood._ But when he was around, it was different. It was more than her just embodying her character. Rather, it was like her feelings became heightened when she was with Nevada, or really any part of the Ramirez family. They were fun and sweet and loving and hilarious and silly. She laughed with them. She connected with them.

She’d tried her hardest to shake this feeling, but it was stuck inside the crevices of her mind. It almost felt like a place had been made for her, and it was terrifying. But it was also beautiful.

But then again, maybe it really _was_ just her embodying the character of Lali Rosa, perhaps a bit too much. When people were around, that’s who she was. And Lali liked Nevada as a friend and as a fuck. Lali liked the family. Lali belonged here. _Rebecca_ did not. Rebecca belonged in the real world. Rebecca _hated_ Nevada.

Really, she did.

It didn’t matter that he made her laugh. It didn’t matter that he loved to listen to her stories. It didn’t matter that he always kissed her after he fucked her. It didn’t matter.

Really, it didn’t.

It was something that she had accepted about herself, that she wanted intimacy. She wanted a warm body and she had figured that the closest she could get to that was to start fucking Nevada. It’d been the best thing she could have possibly done for the mission because now she was at the centre of the action, but that wasn’t really what she had expected, and she hadn’t expected any friendship or _actual intimacy_ to come out of her stupid little stunt of fucking Ramirez.

Like when she sat on the living room floor and played _Go Fish_ with Carlos. Nevada had sat behind her on the sofa and played with her hair while Rebecca pretended not to notice that he was hinting at Carlos about the cards she had to help him win.  Or like how she watched him get dressed before leaving her room for the night and vice versa. Or like how they had begun to help each other get dressed after fucking. Or like how what they were doing couldn’t really be described as just fucking anymore because that implied that it was nothing more than just the act.

The secret meetings she had with different police officers were growing shorter and less frequent. Each time, Rebecca simply listed a crime or two that Nevada had committed or the name of some unknown drug dealers and not much else. “Diego and Javy Santiago were murdered by Nevada.”

“Becca, we already suspected that,” Sarah would say. “Do you have any proof?”

“I have been told by Fernanda Ramirez and it’s been confirmed by Nevada,” Rebecca would explain. “That’s definitely enough, I’d say. But I can’t bring you any actual evidence without blowing my cover.”

“So what’s this information good for?”

“Now you know he did it and all you have to do is find something to incriminate him with! No searching for alibis or questioning other suspects.”

“What about the Halloween mission?” Sarah would ask.

“I already gave you the names and the date that it’s happening,” Rebecca would respond. “What more do you need?”

“How about the exact time? Or the routes?”

“I can’t give you that information, Sarah! You know that already. It’s too risky.”

“Brian says—”

“Brian _knows_ how this fucking works, Sarah.”

They all went the same exact way. Rebecca could sense the growing tension between her and the officers she regularly dealt with. Sarah was very vocal in particular but there were a handful of officers that were showing impatience. It irritated her to no end because Diego was in the field for six months and he didn’t get a third of the information she was getting in her fourth month. It was like they didn’t trust her.

 

“Tell me more about it.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Why so curious, Nevada?” she asked as the two of them climbed out of the car and walked towards the house.

“I think you know why,” he said, smirking at her. The two of them had gotten back from a business meeting with some new trading partners. She and Nevada had gotten a different car home than the boys and beat them home.

“Well, I can tell you it isn’t like it is in porn,” she said to him.

“You’re being too vague, Lali,” he complained as the two of them entered the house. “Seriously, tell me what it’s like to be with a woman.”

Rebecca laughed. “I think you know very well what it’s like to be with a woman, Nevada!” she teased. “Would you like to know what it’s like to be with a man instead?”

Nevada made a face at her.

She laughed again. “Okay, okay, fine!” she said. “I’ve been with about five women. Only two of them have been actual girlfriends of mine.”

Nevada smiled. “Now we’re talking,” he said. “And what did they like in bed?”

“Oh, you know,” mused Rebecca, turning from him and walking towards the living room. “ _Stuff._ ”

“What _kind_ of _stuff_?” asked Nevada as he followed her.

“Well, Juana loved roughness,” she said. “But Katelyn liked it slow and smooth.”

Nevada smiled and moved towards her. “And what did you like?”

Rebecca laughed, “Sorry but I’m going to cut you off here,” she said. “You’ve have enough information about my bisexuality and you have to earn the rest some other way.”

Nevada smiled. “Fine,” he said. “But I _will_ want to know more.” He walked over to Rebecca and kissed her, running his hand through her hair. “You know, you were really good today,” he murmured.

“Yea?”

“Yea,” he confirmed. “Those guys were terrified of you.”

Rebecca smiled and shrugged. “Good.”

He eyed her, smiling. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something and it was a moment before he spoke again. “What demon did you grow up with?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Rebecca.

Nevada chuckled. “Girls like you… Girls like you.”

She felt a sense of uneasiness spreading through her. “What?” she asked.

“Girls with your kind of anger, your kind of fight,” explained Nevada. “You’ve got to have gone through hell to end up like this.”

He said it like it was a compliment but it felt like he was spitting in her face, as if he was saying she was some sort of mutant. “Oh, fuck off,” she said, turning away from him and walking into her bedroom. She could hear him laughing as he followed her.

“See what I mean, cariño?” He said. “You’ve got some serious anger issues. What made you so hard?”

She turned on him. “What made _you_ so hard?” she demanded.

“Come again?” Said Nevada, smirking.

Rebecca felt the anger rise up inside of her and she couldn’t stop it. She hated it when anyone presumed things like that about her. She hated that people assumed there was some sort of cause, reason, _whatever_ , for why she was the way she was. “What else do you expect from someone who was _raised_ by a fucking gang leader?” She snarled. _What do you expect from someone who felt like some sort of outsider her whole life, even around family?_

“But no, it can’t just be about that, right!? Because I’m not a fucking _dude_ , I need to have a reason to be angry. Something _other_ than having a drug dealing family!” She couldn’t control herself. It was as if something switched inside of her and let out all the anger and frustration she’d been holding in for years. _I need to have a reason to be angry. Something other than feeling ashamed of my own identity for most of my life and hating myself for years for no actual fucking reason._

“I had servants that both made me tea and dumped people into rivers, is that not enough for you?” _The only person who every made me feel like I had a home was shot dead by_ you _. Is that not enough for you?_

Nevada’s smile had disappeared as she spoke. His lips were in a tight line and his fists were at his sides. “I’d watch how you speak to me,” he warned, his voice low.

“I won’t,” said Rebecca.

“ _What?_ ”

“You heard me, you _pendejo._ ”

Nevada stalked towards her but she refused to move as he approached her. “Who do you think you are?”

“Lali Rosa.” _Becca Meza._ “Say it with me,” she said it slowly. “Eulalia. Rosa.” _Rebecca. Meza._

He grabbed her jaw tightly in his hand, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. “ _Y me llamo Nevada Ramirez_ ,” he said slowly, carefully. “You should know what that means, _coño_.”

Rebecca stroked her jaw when he let go and watched him as his eyes roamed her body. She knew he could hurt her. She’d always known that. But she’d be damned if she let him take her down without a fight. “Do you think I don’t know what you’re capable of?” She said.

He stared at her for a long time before answering her. “Actually, I like my women willing,” he said. “ _Begging_. Like you do so well.”

She raised her eyebrows, surprised for a moment, but then she scoffed. “That’s not what I was saying but funny how it’s the first place that your mind went,” she said. “Really says something about you doesn’t it, then? You, a drug dealer and murderer, have no problem throwing a kid off a bridge onto train tracks, but forcing yourself onto a woman!? Never!” She stepped towards him. “Of all places to draw the line, why draw it here?”

His lips twitched. “What are you getting at?” he asked, but it sounded like a statement.

“Just interesting, is all. This part of you…” said Rebecca, shrugging. “It shows that when you _fuck_ ,” she spat the word out like poison, “it’s not about what you want. If it was about what you wanted, then you wouldn’t give a shit about consent. This is about more. Not what you crave but what you need.”

He said nothing. Only took a deep breath, so Rebecca continued.

“Admit it, Nevada. Are you really as cold as you play out to be?” she asked. “Not so heartless or I wouldn’t even be here.”

He stepped forward again, his face turning red from anger.

“You need more, baby. I fucking know that,” Rebecca taunted. “Who knows, besides you, I’m probably the only one who knows that.” It was a lie. She knew it was a lie. But she was beyond angry and she wanted him to hurt.

“I’m warning you…” said Nevada through clenched teeth.

“What was it, then? That you went through? That made you like this?”

“ _Watch it, Rosa._ ”

Rebecca squared her shoulders and looked his in the eyes without flinching as she spoke. “You don’t scare me,” she lied.

Nevada reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist, twisting it painfully so that her head was pulled back. “And that’s your mistake,” he growled as he looked down at her face. The pain she’d felt had flicked across her features for a mere millisecond, but he’d seen it before her expression went hard again. “You really want to challenge me? A strong woman like you? I could break you so easily and so fucking completely without a shred of remorse.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Go ahead.”

“I have no issue with it.”

“ _Yes, you do_ ,” Rebecca hissed. “I _know_ you do. You could never touch me if you knew I didn’t want you to. You couldn’t touch _any_ girl if she didn’t want you to. And guess what? It fucking _terrifies_ you.”

Nevada growled at her comment and seemed to go over the edge. He grabbed Rebecca by her shoulders and pushed her so roughly against the wall that things fell from the dresser. She gasped as her head slammed against the wall but he was in her face. “You want to bet?” he barked at her, his face millimetres away from hers.

“Go ahead! See if you can!” Rebecca snarled back at him. “But I don’t _want_ you. And I sure as _fuck_ don’t love you like you think I do.”

His hand was around her neck as soon as the words left her, tightening against her windpipe. “You don’t know me, you little _puta._ ”

She was struggling to breathe against his hand. She knew exactly what to do to get out of his grip. Turn her head, drop to her knees, flip him over her head. It was as simple as that but he already knew what she was capable of physically. She didn’t need to try to overpower him like that because that wouldn’t hurt him nearly as much as her words could. She kept her expression hard. “So do it then,” she gasped out. Her breathing was almost completely cut off and her voice came out strangled. “Show me I’m wrong.”

She’d never seen him so angry. His hand tightened around her neck even more and she couldn’t breathe at all. Her vision began to blur and her head was spinning. Maybe this was it. Maybe he would kill her. She would die at the hands of the man who killed Diego. Was it really such a bad way to go?

But before everything went black, Nevada let go. He punched the wall by her head three times before turning and storming out of the room, leaving Rebecca to fall to her knees, coughing and gasping for air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coño - cunt  
> Y me llamo Nevada Ramirez - And my name is Nevada Ramirez


	21. Cold Nights

There was a sour taste in Rebecca’s mouth. Something small and disgusting that lingered. Maybe it was just bile. Fernanda’s voice rang in her ear, playing over and over and over again. _Nevada doesn't know how to love_ , she had said. _He feels it, but he has no idea what to do with it._ It couldn’t be true. It just… couldn’t. The man who had just earlier had his hand around her neck was not capable of feeling anything close to affection. Not after what happened. Not after he left a ring of bruises around her throat and three fist-sized holes in the wall by her dresser.

But even still, Rebecca couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at him. She tried to be. She tried so hard to be angry at him, to be disgusted by his actions, but she just couldn’t feel it. She had known what he would do. She’d known he’d go that far. She’d known it and she had pushed his buttons anyway. Why? What good did it do?

She’d watched him from her window, hiding behind the curtains as Nevada and his men climbed into a town car and rode off. They had a meeting regarding a dispute over land with a Russian woman named Anya. Rebecca was supposed to be going with them because she knew the particulars of land law and how to get around it, but Nevada left without letting her know. Not that she would have gone with him if he had. Not because she was scared of him, though. No. No, she just needed some time to process what had taken place.

Process what? The fact that he nearly killed her? Or the fact that she _didn’t seem to hate him for it_?! God _damn_ it. All Rebecca really felt was an overwhelming amount guilt in the pit of her stomach.

Nevada didn’t know how to love. He didn’t know the meaning of the word. He thought love was selfishness. He was selfish. And he was awful. And it didn’t matter that he made her feel beautiful sometimes. It really, _really_ fucking didn’t.

 _Oh god,_ what was happening to her? More than anything, she wanted Diego to be there. Her _friend_ , Diego. She wanted to talk to him and have him explain to her what she was thinking. He’d always been so great at figuring out just what it was that she was feeling. He’d watch her and listen to her, nod and smile when necessary, and then he would figuratively smack some sense into her. _You have feelings for him, you idiota!_ he’d yell at her.

“I do not,” she would deny. “I’m just pretending.”

_That’s not what your heart is saying, Becky._

“Hearts don’t speak.”

_Yours does. You know it does._

Maybe this had been a bad idea. The entire thing. The mission in and of itself. Maybe the NYPD should’ve just gotten warrants for Nevada’s house instead of sending her in. It would’ve been easier for Rebecca to never have known about this world. About Nevada’s real personality. About his real family. He would have forever remained a floating head in her mind, tossed behind prison bars where she never had a chance to speak to him. Just another criminal she’d seen get put away. Maybe they would have locked eyes as he was walked through the police office. Maybe she would have even interrogated him. But that would be all.

She would never know him. Never kiss him. Never fuck him.

 _Shit._ She needed to relax.

Rebecca drew a bath. She’d had some bath bombs from her shopping spree a few weeks back and filled the bathtub with hot, purple water and soaked herself for what seemed like forever. She lay, mulling, staring at the ceiling until the water grew cool and her fingers turned to prunes. She put her head underwater, the wet seeming to burn against her throat.

_You don’t know me._

Rebecca had thought that she knew him, but she grew more and more unsure of herself. After all, Nevada thought he knew _her_ when, clearly, he had no fucking clue.

She didn’t see him all day. In fact, she was avoiding him. After what happened, she didn’t know how to even _look_ at him, let alone have a conversation. She’d eaten while the boys were out and when the car pulled up in front of the house, she’d escaped into her bedroom. When 2am rolled around, she felt it was safe to leave the room. She wanted to grab a drink of water and was sure that everyone would be asleep by now.

She walked, her bare feet sticking to the ground, to the kitchen. The oversized t-shirt she wore covered her ass completely so she wasn’t wearing anything under it and the cold night air against and between her thighs gave her goose bumps. It was mid-October and the air was cold. It made her shiver. She had always had trouble getting used to the cold.

The light was on in the kitchen but Rebecca was too lost in thought to think much about it until she walked in to find Nevada, still in jeans and t-shirt, already there. He had a half-eaten peach in his hand, his lips wet from its juice. He turned his head when she walked in and his expression turned to stone. His cold stare locked with hers as she froze in her tracks.

She gulped, feeling the colour drain from her face. _Fuck_ , she was not ready for this, not ready to talk to him, but he stood there, waiting, _daring_ her to say something. But she didn’t. She simply turned and walked quickly back to her bedroom.

“Hey,” he yelled after her.

When she swung the door to close behind her, he caught it and walked in. “Hey!” he yelled again.

Rebecca stood unmoving in the middle of the room as he approached her, circling her slowly until he faced her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Her heart raced in her chest.

“Fucking hotshot, who do you think you are?” he snarled at her. “Tell me. Fucking _tell_ me.” He pushed at her shoulders but she kept looking down. “Oh, now you have nothing to say? This is _my house,_ bitch. You do what I tell you because I _own_ you, understand?”

Rebecca moved back as he swayed forward, lifting her gaze slowly until it was fixed on the scar under his eye.

“ _Look at me_ ,” he hissed.

Slowly, she met his feral gaze. Her breath grew increasingly shallow.

“I’m the boss. The don. The leader. The master. Whatever the _fuck_ you want to call it. You just need to know that I run things here. I do what _I_ want. And you do what _I_ want. Do you understand that?”

He was so angry. It made her shake. She stared into his eyes, her breath uneven and her lips quivering. Nothing made sense to her anymore. She didn’t know what she was doing in this house anymore. Why was she here? What had made her think this would be a good idea?

“ _Do you?_ ” he repeated.

Rebecca started at the harshness in his voice but nodded. “Y-yes,” she gasped as she reached out and clutched at the front of his shirt with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. She pulled his head down as she leaned upwards and kissed him on the mouth.

 Nevada was unresponsive for half a second before deepening the kiss. He sucked and licked at her lip before biting down on it hard enough to make her gasp. He pushed her hands roughly down to her sides before he pulled her body close against his. His fingernails dug into the soft flesh of her ass while his other hand tightened a fist in her hair.  He thrust his tongue into her mouth and backed her into the wall, on the one adjacent from where he had had her that morning.

“You gonna do that again, huh?” he asked her, pulling her hair back and smacking his hand hard against her ass. “You gonna talk to me like that, disrespect me again?”

Rebecca shook her head quickly. “No,” she whispered.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and looked hesitantly up at him.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Her body seemed to scream for him. She nodded, and then jumped as he spanked her again.

“Say it.”

“Yes.”

He slapped her ass again. “ _Say it._ ”

Rebecca let out a shaky breath. “I want you to, f-fuck me,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

With that, Nevada took a step back, letting go of her so that he could push her shoulders down. He undid his belt as she dropped to her knees, but he had her do the unbuttoning herself.

Rebecca pulled his jeaned down to rest around his thighs and pulled out his hard cock. She licked her lips and waited a moment for her mouth to regain moisture, and then she ran her tongue firmly along the tip, tasting the salty precome before sucking at his head. He lips wrapped around the hot skin and she swallowed around him. Nevada took the opportunity of her parted lips to thrust slowly into her mouth. She stayed still as his dick moved against her lips and tongue, her hands gripping onto the hem of his jeans. She started to pull back when she couldn’t take any more into her mouth, but Nevada grabbed her hair tightly and held her head in place. He thrust a bit farther inside her mouth, hissing, until she could feel him at the back of her throat. He seemed to enjoy it when it made her choke.

He pulled back but didn’t give her any time to adjust before he pushed his cock into her mouth again. He held her head still and steady as he fucked her mouth, his thrusts growing faster and harder as we went along, hitting the back of her throat. “Yes…” he moaned, loving the sounds of her choking and gasping around him. “Fuck, yes…”

She had her hands wrapped around his thighs, her nails digging into him as she sucked and licked as well as she could. She pressed her tongue upward at the underside of his cock and swallowed when he reached the back of her mouth. It was a strain against her jaw and she had to squeeze her thumb to keep from gagging, but she let him fuck her mouth like he wanted to. One thrust was too deep for Rebecca to take and she fell back against the wall, but Nevada just used that to his advantage. He thrust himself farther inside of her mouth, using the wall as leverage to keep her from backing up anywhere. “ _Take it,_ you fucking slut.” He held his hips against her, groaning loudly as she sucked and choked on his dick until she started to push at his thighs.

Finally, he pulled out of her completely and took a step back to watch as she gasped below him, her mouth wet and sore and her lips swollen. She pressed her hand gently to her neck as she caught her breath. She couldn’t help but think about how familiar it felt. It was the second time in one day that Nevada had left her gasping for air on the floor of her bedroom.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the subject, though, as he pulled her up and pushed her against the wall again. Rebecca studied his face as he lifted one of her legs up so that he could guide his cock between her thighs. He looked determined, calculating. He was proving a point to her, and she knew he was. It was simple: he was the boss. He told her what to do. He ran the show. He controlled her. He wanted to show her that he had the power and she went along with it.

He thrust quickly and roughly, making her gasp and have to grab onto his shoulders for support. Nevada fucked her hard but he didn’t look at her. He instead rested his forehead against the wall by Rebecca’s head. _This is so reckless of me_ , she thought to herself. But she didn’t care. For once, she didn’t mind that this was all about Nevada. She let him set the pace and followed suit. He needed it more than she did. Maybe he would take this as her peace offering, a way to make up for what she had said.

His thrusts into her were short and fast, leaving her constantly wanting more. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and lifted up both her legs as Nevada held her up. She wrapped her legs around his shaking, thrusting body and dug her heels into his kidneys to allow a better entrance.

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned, still thrusting inside her. “Take my cock, just like that…” He pushed his hands roughly inside her shirt and wrapped them around her breasts. Rebecca flinched as he harshly pinched her nipples between his thumb and index finger. He kneaded and shaped the flesh of her breasts as he continued to thrust into her. He seemed more than comfortable, but the position was growing more and more painful for Rebecca to handle. The wall was rough and her spine couldn’t curve to it and it was exhausting to try to keep herself up and steady. “The bed,” she whimpered softly. “The bed. Please.”

Nevada looked at her, irritated, before wrapping his hands tightly around her waist. He shifted her body to lean against his and walked with her to her bed so that he could place her flat on her back. He then moved over her and thrust into her again, hard, not wanting to waste any time. She gasped loudly as he fucked her hard and grabbed the bed sheets in her fists. He pushed her shirt up above her chest and took a nipple into his mouth as he held her arms down as her sides. He licked and sucked and bit at her breasts as she arched her back underneath him. He could feel her legs shaking on either side of him.

Soon, he had his face buried in the crook of her shoulder. His groans and moans and whimpers were muffled against the mattress, his hands resting against the mattress as Rebecca spread her hands across the bare skin of his back, having to reach under his shirt to touch it. She allowed herself to truly feel him. Her hands moved slowly over the muscles in his back, slipping from the layer of sweat that covered him. She marvelled in the way he moved, feeling the room spin as he continued his thrusting.

The mattress springs were squeaking underneath them and the headboard was hitting the wall as he pounded her against the sheets. He was being so rough but it felt right. The heat of his body, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the rhythm of his hips moving against her, his moans… It was all so overwhelming and all consuming.

It was her. And it was him. Together.

Her eyes were closed, her breaths heavy, her body restless.  Her hands clutched at the pillow under her head for stability. Holy _fuck_ , it felt so damn good. She rolled her head back and breathed through her mouth. “Nevada…”

She had gasped out the name quietly, her voice hardly more than a whisper but he froze. Slowly, he lifted his head until he could look at her. The room was dark but Rebecca could make out the foreign expression on his face. She didn’t have time to try to figure out what it could possibly mean before he crushed her lips with his. He kissed her furiously and desperately as she tried to keep up, wrapping her hands in his hair as he clutched at her face.

“Say it again,” he gasped against her mouth. “Say my name.”

“Nevada.”

He let out a shuddering breath and resumed his thrusting, fucking her just as hard, but deeper this time. Rebecca gasped and shuddered underneath him as he continued to kiss her lips, face, jaw…

He groaned her name and he brought his hand down to her clit, spreading her wetness before rubbing it fast with his fingers, causing Rebecca to let out a short cry and Nevada moaned at the sound. He sucked on her neck, a tender spot just above her collarbone, away from the bruises his hand had left on her, and murmured incoherently against her skin. She couldn’t understand a thing he was saying but she could feel the vibrations. She clutched a hand in his hair as he continued to fuck her and she bit her lips. Her legs wrapped around his waist, not to guide him farther but just so she could feel more of him. She resented that he was wearing so many clothes still but felt too lost in the pleasure to try to remove them.

Meanwhile, Nevada’s moans became louder until he pulled away from her neck and threw his head back. “Oh, fuck, I’m going to come,” he groaned. “I’m gonna come, _shit!_ ” His thrusts became erratic and his hand on her clit moved even faster until he came inside of her. His cock twitched and he groaned. He stayed inside of her as he unloaded, the thick, hot liquid filling her and making her sigh softly.

When he finally pulled out, Nevada shifted his hand so that he could penetrate her with his fingers. He thrust three fingers inside of her and rubbed her clit with his thumb, moving quickly until she reached her peak and came, which didn’t take long at all. He spread his hand over her stomach as she trembled in her silent release, watching her sheening skin intently as her back arched under him until she fell back into the mattress, exhausted. Her skin was flushed and her shirt was still bunched under her arms. She looked both peaceful and restless and he didn’t know how that was possible.

She opened her eyes when she felt him move off the bed and she watched him as he redid his pants and belt and fixed his shirt. He looked as tired and confused as she felt, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at her.

But when he turned to leave, Rebecca grabbed his wrist with a heavy hand.

He looked at her hand, then at her, questioningly.

She didn’t know what she wanted. All she knew was that she didn’t want to spend another night alone in this place. This house that felt so warm but distant at the same time was wearing a hole in her. She took a deep breath. “Stay,” she whispered shakily.

He stared at her dumbfounded for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he said simply.

Rebecca fixed her shirt as Nevada walked around the bed to get to the empty space. She turned onto her side, away from him, and curled her still-trembling body inwards as Nevada climbed onto bed beside her. He took the comforter and spread it to lie over both their bodies and then he pressed himself to her back, wrapping his arms around her body as if to protect her.

But it only made Rebecca quiver more.


	22. Nevada's True Self

He wasn’t completely sure what it was that caused him to stir from his sleep, but the thing that properly brought him to consciousness was the feminine scent that filled the air. All girls and women had similar scents but with variations. Some were sweeter than others, some fruity, some much, much sharper. There were women who used the same scented body wash as they did shampoo and there were women who changed both those things each time they ran out. Lali’s scent was light and airy. It reminded Nevada of freshwater and hot stones. It was soothing.

It was a moment before he remembered the events of the night before. He hadn’t been able to sleep. He kept replaying his and Lali’s conversation in his head, over and over and over again. He had been so angry with her and he went a too far but it was all to teach her a lesson, scare her into behaving. But she hadn’t been scared. She was willing to let him ki—hurt her even though he knew she could fight him. He wasn’t sure what that was all about. He hadn’t felt good about doing that to her, going so far that she started changing colour. He shouldn’t have done it.

But when she walked away from him in the kitchen, it brought out that same rage from before. How dare she think she was too good to even talk to him?! Fuck her! But then—

 _Shit_.

She’d said his name. He didn’t know what that had meant, if it even meant anything at all, but she said his name.

Finally, Nevada opened his eyes. The pillow blocked half his vision so he lifted his head. Lali was in the attached bathroom. The door was open and there was steam in the air. The mirror was fogged up everywhere except for the place where she’d wiped at it. Her hair was wet, dangling over her shoulders, past her breasts, with occasional droplets of water spilling onto the tile floor. It had gotten longer since he’d known her. She stood in front of the mirror, naked except for her panties, her skin spotted with water. She was examining her neck.

He knew what she would find. He’d woken up in the middle of the night last night. She had been on her back with her head turned away from him and he had had his arm thrown across her stomach. She seemed to be having a restless but deep sleep and he took the opportunity to look at her body properly, something he’d wanted to do for a while. When he imagined fucking her, before he actually did, he imagined her soft and delicate and flawless except for maybe a navel piercing. What he got instead was healthy, toned skin with scars to rival his own. Most of them were on her hips and ribs, but there was also a bit of discolouring on her abdomen, which he hadn’t noticed before.

He had traced his hand over her arms and legs, lightly and carefully, before tracing his fingers up her torso all the way to her neck. A hickey had formed just under the bruises. They were almost identical in colour and his family would probably assume he and Lali had a _very_ kinky time the night before. She should probably wear a scarf for the next couple of days.

Nevada turned onto his back and stretched. “Good morning,” he mumbled.

Lali, who had donned a bra, came out of the bathroom and walked to her closet. “Morning.”

Nevada watched her as she pulled a pair of tights and a dress from the closet. She sat on the bed, facing away from him, and pulled the tights on.

“Are you going somewhere?” asked Nevada as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. The clock said 9am. He had nothing going on in the morning but he had some people to take care of in the afternoon. “I want you to come with me when I go to collect some overdue insurance money.”

“You can go without me,” said Lali simply. “Fernanda asked me to go with her to Sofia’s dress fitting.”

He furrowed his brow. The quinceañera was on October 25th and today was the 20th. “Shouldn’t she already have her dress by now?” he asked.

“It’s just the final fitting,” explained Lali. She pulled on the dress and zipped it up.

“You look great in white,” Nevada commented, eyeing the modest silhouette of the short dress. He smiled when she turned to him but she only gave him a noncommittal thank you before going back into the bathroom. He stood up and walked towards her, feeling a bit disgusting seeing as she was all washed and dress and he was still in his clothes from last night. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“What? No.”

“You seem mad.”

“I’m not.”

Nevada frowned as she applied her makeup. He’d never seen a woman apply makeup before, other than his own family, but the moment was ruined by the tension in the air. His stomach churned when he realized that what he did yesterday may not be as forgiven as he thought it was. “Listen, Lali…” he started, nervously. “I, uh, wanted…”

“Yes?” She didn’t turn to him even when he trailed off.

Oh, she was definitely mad. He took a breath and tried again. “I lost my temper with you yesterday,” he said. “I didn’t like what you were saying and I went too far. I’m sorry—”

“For trying to kill me?” she interrupted, her voice nonchalant and mismatching the words she said.

Nevada frowned. “I wasn’t going to kill you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

He wished she would look at him but she didn’t. She just finished up her makeup and moved onto brushing her hair. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “Well, it’s like I said. I went too far. But I would never want to hurt you.”

The words clearly pissed her off but she didn’t say anything. She left the bathroom and moved to walk past him but he grabbed her arm. “Lali, what are you—”

“Nevada, I have to get ready,” she said. “Let go of my arm.”

“What is your problem, Lali?” he asked, starting to get angry with her again. “I’m trying to apologize.”

She pulled her arm free from his grip. “I forgive you,” she said unconvincingly before walking away from him to her dresser.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not lying!” she said angrily. “I don’t care about what you did. It wasn’t exactly out of character. You don’t owe me an apology.”

The words stung. He didn’t know why. Fuck, he’d heard much worse but it hurt. “I do. I do owe you an apology,” he said, trying to rationalize with her. She was clearly pissed off at him, which he didn’t understand at all since she was all over him last night.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said as she pulled out a pair of earrings from her dresser. “It’s not like we’re together.”

Nevada frowned, surprised. “Well, we haven’t talked about it but–”

“ _But nothing_ ,” hissed Lali, cutting him off. “You and I are _not_ together.”

He felt something hot and primal stir inside of him. “Yes, we are,” he countered.

With that, she spun around to face him, her anger suddenly clear across her face. “Oh? What, you decided this on your own and didn’t bother to tell me? Typical.” She spat.

“Hey, I didn’t decide this on my own!” Nevada said just as angrily. “What’s between us is obvious.”

“Yes, you’re right! It’s _obvious_ that we’re fuck buddies.”

“No!” he said, stepping towards her. “No, no, _no_. _Fuck you_ if you cant tell this is more that just fooling around. You're _mine_.”

She didn’t seem fazed by his conviction. “And are you mine?” she countered.

He didn’t even have to think before answering. “Yes,” he said. “So why don't you tell me something?”

“Like what?”

“You know what I want to hear. I want you to say that—”

“That what?” she snarled. “That I want you? That I love you?”

She said the words like they were the ugliest things on the planet. He looked down at her, his hands in fists by his side and it was then that it occurred to him that when she said she didn’t want or love him, she meant it. “Do you?” he asked.

She answered his question with her own. “Do _you_?”

Nevada ground his teeth. Did he? “Yes,” he said, his voice firm.

Lali’s face changed. He could see the fear and disbelief that spread across her before she settled on a neutral expression. “No,” she said simply before she turned her back to him, once again facing the dresser.

“ _What_?”

“Nevada Ramirez doesn't love.”

She said it like it was a fact. A simple fact. Common knowledge. That he was incapable of caring about anything. He’d heard so much worse from so many people but this struck him so much more than he would ever admit. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he said, his voice back to a normal volume.

“What?”

“What is up with you?” he asked, stepping forward to stand beside her and look at her as he spoke.

“Nothing—”

“No, _fuck you_!” he snapped. “Lali, I _love_ you. I thought you knew that by now.”

“How could I?” she said, turning to him again. “All we do is fuck.”

“We talk. We go out.”

“When we're on business—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This is more than that.”

She looked at him for a moment before speaking. “We're just partners,” she said, as if she’d rehearsed the words.

A thought occurred to him. “Is this about us being rivals? You're a Rosa and I'm a Ramirez?”

“No.”

“Because that doesn't make any fucking sense, you know that? Zilch. You came to _me_ for help and it doesn't—”

“Nevada, _stop_.”

He stopped. He stood, his arms limp at his side as she looked up at him with hardened eyes. “How do you see me, Lali?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked, as if the question wasn’t as simple as basic math.

“What am I to you?” he asked, knowing fully well that he would regret the answer. “If we aren't a… _thing_ , then what are we?”

“Partners.” She answered it simply.

“Partners,” he repeated monotonously. “Not even friends?”

“Listen—”

“And everything else that happens between the sheets is—”

“Fun,” she said. “But that's it. Nothing else.”

 _Fuck._ “Last night didn't feel like nothing—” he began but she cut him off.

“Good,” she said. “That means your dick is working.”

“Why do you do that?” he asked, his voice rising once again. “Why is it that whenever we start talking about what anything means, you turn around and start acting like a _bitch_ again?”

She didn’t look at him. “Fuck off.”

He stepped towards her again, lowering his head to hers and willing her to turn to him and look him in the eyes. “If all I am to you is this, then you are _nothing_ to me but this,” he said, slowly and heavily.

“Well, that's not news to me,” Lali said, looking at him without a hint of affection. “Like I said: Nevada Ramirez doesn't love.”

He stared at her. He didn’t know what else to do. What the _fuck_ just happened? How did she go from being so into him last night to this cold bitch in front of him now? How was this heartless _thing_ in front of him the same person who asked him to stay with her all night? She wasn’t even looking at him and he watched her as she dug around the drawers for God-knows-what. She didn’t even care what her words did to him.

He had laid himself out for this woman to see. He’d given her a part of him. She had seen more of him than anyone else had, and yet here she was, acting like it was nothing. Acting like he meant nothing to her. And _shit,_ maybe he did.

_Nevada Ramirez doesn’t love._

His arms went limp and he felt like something, some _one_ , had just stabbed him in the stomach. “Well clearly you don't,” he said.

He left her alone after that.


	23. The Tragic Love Story of Rebecca Meza and her Best Friend, Diego (May he Rest in Peace)

She used to dream about babies. A beautiful baby boy with big brown eyes and dimples. Brown hair. Full, pouty lips. Dark skin. Soft hands. Always smiling. A loud laugh. Just like Diego.

She didn’t care if her baby didn’t look like her. She just wanted to be with someone she loved. She dreamt about this baby boy for years. He would come into her dreams every so often. Sometimes twice in one night, sometimes after months of being away. She even came up with a name for him: Stefan. Something simple and sweet. Like Diego was.

She’d woken up to the sound of her phone ringing on the side table. Nevada’s heavy hand—large and masculine—was resting on her chest. She agreed to go with Fernanda to Sofia’s fitting and quickly got up to shower. She was too lost in thought to even thing about the soreness between her legs from the night before. She was too scared of what the night had meant.

She’d dreamt about babies that night. For the first time in almost two years, she dreamt about babies, but she didn’t see Stefan. She saw someone else. A little girl. With green eyes.

Nevada’s daughter.

Rebecca had sat on the floor of the shower as the hot water drummed on her head and shoulders, her hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from sobbing as the tears spilled from her eyes. And now, days later, she was back in that same spot, doing the exact same thing.

There were three moments that Rebecca felt changed her life forever. The first moment was when she met Diego’s family. His affectionate, religious mother who loved to cook for them and his hardworking, quiet father with a heart of gold. His younger brother, who was still in college at the time, training to be a mechanic.

It was then that Rebecca finally felt accepted. Her life was no longer that of some foreigner living in a tiny town full of white people, trying her hardest to blend in and be like them. She was a Latina who was proud of her culture and race, who had friends who were like her, who _belonged_ somewhere.

But besides that, it was the first time she’d ever felt welcomed, truly welcomed, by anyone. She knew then that Diego was more than just a friend. It was a year and a handful of baby dreams that she realized that she was in love with him. He was constantly on her mind, around some corner, and she started settling into a routine where everything she did, every choice she’d make, had something to do with him somehow. She never told him, though. He was her friend, first and foremost, and why ruin a good thing like that? She wasn’t going to say anything to him until she knew for a fact that nothing would change between them. She wanted to know that he would talk to her the same way as he used to before. That all just blew up in her face, though. Holding it in hadn’t been the best idea.

The two of them, along with a handful of other police officers, had been trying to capture a group of armed robbers and finally caught them while they were hitting up a large bank. The mission had been successful and all of the robbers were arrested, but it was a very tough mission. Long story short, a bomb went off. A small one, but one that had put a cast on one of the officer’s legs and another officer’s arm. Rebecca had been thrown against a railing, which struck her hard against her abdomen and caused her to vomit. There was an enormous bruise there, but she felt completely okay afterwards. Diego got a bump on his head from a stapler that had gone flying, but he was the least injured of the group. That had been the second moment that changed Rebecca’s life forever. Two nights later, when they all felt slightly less bruised, the officers went out to celebrate with drinks.

“How are you feeling, Becky?” Diego whispered to her when they were in the cab back to her place at three in the morning.

“I’m good, D,” she answered. “How are you?”

“I’m good, too. Thank you for letting me stay the night with you.” He nudged her playfully on the shoulder.

“You’re hopeless when you’re drunk,” said Rebecca. “I’d be heartless to leave you alone.”

He narrowed his eyes at that. “You’re not heartless.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I said, dummy.”

“You are not heartless,” he said again, quieter this time.

Rebecca looked at him, confused, but didn’t pull away when he pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he breathed as he put his hand on her stomach, feeling the tender, purple skin under her belly button. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t.” He gave her a kiss, soft and tender and short, and then apologized for kissing her.

“It’s alright,” said Rebecca, kissing him again.

It was soft at first but grew more and more passionate and desperate. It took all of their self-restraint to keep from undressing each other in the back of the taxi.

And then, in her bed, Diego pressed his palms into hers and he thrust into her in a sloppy, uneven rhythm. They were drunk and stupid and sloppy and the next morning brought enormous headaches and sheer awkwardness. They were both unprepared to go from completely platonic to something… _more._

They both pretended that they didn’t remember him yelling out that he loved her.

She didn’t know why it felt so strange. Maybe it was because the first time they were together like that wasn’t supposed to be some drunken impulse. It felt wrong. It felt like it didn’t mean as much. It felt like just a fuck instead of something meaningful, which it should have been.

Three and a half weeks later, Rebecca sat on a hospital gurney as her doctor stood in front of her with a solemn look on her face. “I don’t understand why I had to come in to see you, Dr. Whyte,” she said. “Couldn’t you just tell me the results on the phone?”

“I’m afraid things are more complicated than that.”

“I know,” said Rebecca, irritated. “You said that after I gave blood and now you’re telling me again even though I followed your advice and got an ultrasound done. What more do you want me to do?”

“Rebecca, you are not pregnant,” said Whyte.

She nodded. “I figured as much.” She kept her expression neutral but Rebecca still felt a sting. six days ago marked her period being seven days late. Rebecca had figured it would be too early to get an accurate reading from a pregnancy test and so she had gone to the doctor to get a blood test. Three days later, she was called in for an ultrasound, the results of which were the reason why she was here now. After such a commotion, she figured she wasn’t pregnant, even though her period was still irregular, but actually hearing the news, knowing it was actually true and not just a possibility, made her heart sink.

She and Diego had barely said two words to each other since their night together so when she sat in the cab to the hospital, she was terrified. She didn’t know what would happen if she was actually pregnant and she didn’t know how Diego would react. Somehow, in the thirty-minute ride from her apartment to the hospital, Rebecca built up the image of a happy little family. Rebecca and Diego with their happy-go-lucky child. She could imagine the two of them rushing to get married because there was no way that Diego’s mother would let them have a bastard. She would wear a simple, flowy dress and glided over her swollen belly and Diego would wear a suit instead of a tux. Everything would be light blue and beige. A wedding on the beach. A windy, salty day.

Diego would be an incredible father. He would love his child more than he loved anything. He would be there for Rebecca and help her through everything. Because he loved her and she loved him. It was as simple as that. Sure, maybe things didn’t go in the order they should have—instead of dating, falling in love, getting married, and having kids, it was fall in love, have a kid, get married, date—but why should that matter?

But Rebecca had gotten way too far ahead of herself. She should have kept her head on instead of letting it float in the clouds. She was usually so good at that, but the idea of having a family had completely overtaken her. That’s all she had ever wanted. And that’s why this was so hard.

“Have you been having irregularities in your menstrual cycle for long?” asked Dr. Whyte.

Rebecca shook her head. “No, only recently.”

“I see,” said Whyte. “Dr. Shankar, the woman who did your ultrasound, reported that you have some sort of injury in your abdomen. What happened there?”

Rebecca frowned. What did that have to do with anything? “I was thrown against the railing while at work.”

The doctor nodded solemnly. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“I didn’t think anything was wrong,” she said. “I’ve had much worse injuries than that. Is-is something wrong, doctor?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Whyte. “When we got your blood test results, we noticed a strange mix of hormones in your blood, which is why I recommended an ultrasound. It seems that the injury in your abdomen was quite significant and it has caused some fallopian tube obstruction. The damage in your case is too severe for us to safety attempt to clear the blockage.”

Rebecca’s heart was pounding. She didn’t understand half of what the doctor said, but she understood enough. “Wh-what are your saying?” she asked shakily.

Whyte took a breath and looked at her sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” she said, “But you can’t have kids.”

Rebecca didn’t know what to say to that. What exactly does one say when her world breaks apart like that? Her entire life, a family was all she wanted and never had. It just was never meant to be. She was always supposed to be a stranger, a loner, someone who didn’t belong anywhere or to anyone.

Alone. Always alone.

She missed the next three days of work. She spent those days in her apartment eating fatty foods and watching Netflix. She picked up her phone to call Diego half a dozen times, but she had ultimately decided not to tell him about what she found out. There was no need for that.

On the fourth day, she went to work and approached Diego. She told him that they were great as friends and that there was no reason for them to ruin what they had. It was the biggest cliché and she knew it, and she knew that her telling him that she didn’t want to be together hurt him, but she wasn’t going to let Diego give up something he always wanted for her. He wanted a family and he deserved one.

Things were different between the two of them for a long time, but slowly, Diego got over Rebecca. He didn’t stop loving her, he didn’t stop caring for her, but he accepted the fact that she didn’t want to be with him. In the days that he felt especially lonely, he liked to come to her and be with her. Sometimes, that meant curling up together and watching movies. Sometimes, it meant fucking her. But never did he tell her he loved her again. He didn’t need to. She already knew.

For so long, Rebecca believed that the decision she had made was the right one. But now, after everything that happened between her and Nevada, she was starting to think that it was all a big mistake. Diego had deserved the truth. She should have told him that she loved him and she should have told him that she couldn’t have kids. He should have had the choice.

And if he had chosen to be with her, maybe things would have turned out differently. If he decided to be with her, he may never have left her side to go on the mission that took his life.

When he was with her for the last time, he had kissed her tenderly. Like a goodbye kiss. She had been tempted to tell him that she loved him but she didn’t and she hated herself everyday for it. Stupid as it sounded, maybe if she had told him, he would have found a way back to her.

Nevada killed Diego. But Nevada had killed a lot of people. She knew who he was and what he has done and she could never make excuses for him. But all it came down to was that he made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years and she would not take the decision away from him. She would not decide that he deserves more because that was unfair to both him and her.

It was the day of Sofia’s quinceañera. Rebecca spent over an hour doing her hair and makeup. She had her hair in a low ponytail and her lips painted maroon. When she finally emerged from the bathroom and walked towards her bed to get her dress, she noticed a velvet box sitting next to it. She opened it to see a necklace and a pair of earrings. The earrings were diamond studs and the necklace was a simple silver chain with a small diamond pendant that matched the studs. The jewellery was simple, but it took her breath away.

Nevada Ramirez loved her. He _loved_ her. And she…

Her hands shook as she put the necklace on.


	24. New Realities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry for the long wait. Hope you like this <3

The third moment her life had changed forever was the day she had accepted this mission. She hadn’t known it then but now, over a year later, it was clear.

There were a total of three different cars that drove them all to Sofia’s quinceañera. Rafi, Fernanda, and Carlos went in one, Nevada and the boys in the other, which left Rebecca to sit alone in the back of an Escalade and think about far too many things at once. She fidgeted with her phone constantly. She had gotten multiple calls from the police station (all disguised to seem like they were coming from various locations in the Heights) but she had ignored all of them. She really didn’t feel like being yelled at by someone who thought she was betraying them. That they could even think such a thing was a stab in the back to her. Besides, the tracking device was still in there so they knew where she was. What was the point in calling her? In fact, it was downright risky, but whoever was on the other line didn’t care.

When she got out of the car at the banquet hall and walked across the empty lot, her phone rang again. Rebecca answered. “What?” she said.

“Six days until show time,” said the voice, Brian, on the other line.

“Chief, you can’t keep calling me like this.”

“What are you talking about?” he said. “This is the first time I’ve called.”

“Well, _someone’s_ been calling me constantly these past couple of days.”

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before he spoke. “I see,” he said, “I’ll talk to them about it.”

“Brian, you know that I’m in this, don’t you?” She asked, her voice more hushed than before.

“Of course I do,” he said, without a doubt.

“Do the rest of them know it?”

A short pause. “You shouldn’t worry about the rest of them,” he said but it wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. “Get back to your duties now. I was just calling to check up.”

Sighing, Rebecca placed her phone into her purse and walked into the building. She barely had time to worry about her fellow police officers, her supposed _friends_ thinking she had turned sides. She had enough to worry about. And although she hated it, a lot of what she was worried about was what Nevada thought of her.

He had barely been able to look at her since the morning in her room and it made her feel like she was dwindling. She’d never seen him like this before. It wasn’t anger because she knew what his anger was like. It was like she had hurt him and it broke her heart. And then she hated herself for letting him make her feel that way. He wasn’t supposed to get to her. He wasn’t supposed to infiltrate her. He wasn’t supposed to find his way into her being and make a home in her hollow skin and he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to love her. He wasn’t supposed to love at all.

Dear god, what had happened to her? She could never have known when she walked through those church doors in mid May and made eye contact across the aisles with a man she was meant to arrest that she would be feeling what she was feeling. This situation made her question who she was.

But how could she feel this way? How could she feel so at home here? How was it that being with Nevada, with Fernanda, with Isaac, Carlos, Rafi… How was it that it made her feel just like how Diego used to make her feel?

Nevada was wearing all black. He had a black tie and a black shirt and a black suit. The only thing that was not black was the golden cross that still wrapped itself around his neck, tucked into his shirt. Every once in a while, the light would hit his neck in just the right way so that Rebecca could see a glimmer of the gold chain beneath his collar. She had caught him staring at her when she first entered the building. He was looking at her carefully and she couldn’t understand what he was trying to communicate, if he was trying to communicate anything at all.

When she met his eyes, her hand went instinctively to the necklace hanging from her neck and she felt goose bumps rise up and down her arms, but he turned away before she could do anything. She thought about him coming into her bedroom while she was in the shower and leaving the jewellery box for her, placing in gently on the bed beside her dress, over which he ghosted his fingers and tried to picture her in it.

The quinceañera itself was a beautiful one. Nevada was a large part of it, which was unexpected, but Rafi told her that Nevada gets too embarrassed to talk about all the kind things he does (because apparently there were a lot). When the music turned classical, it was announced that it was time for the father-daughter dance and Nevada took Sofia out on the dance floor and waltzed with her as the crowd watched. His neck was red and she could tell he was embarrassed but he was also incredibly happy at the sight of Sofia’s smile.

While they danced, Rebecca turned to Rafi on her left. “Where is Sofia’s father, anyway?” she asked.

“Prison,” answered Rafi simply.

“What?” she turned to him. “What’s his name?”

“Juan Sanchez.”

Rebecca fumbled and almost dropped the drink in her hand. “Sanchez? You mean the guy who shot that cop over three years ago?” she played it so she seemed nonchalant but her mind was racing. “What was the nark’s name? Diego, or something.”

Rafi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “You…you know about that?”

She gave him a knowing look. “I know a lot of things, Rafi,” she said. “I also know that it was Nevada who actually killed him.”

“Huh,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Seems like you need to update your sources because you only have a half truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Nevada wasn’t the one who killed him.”

A jolt of something electric seemed to run through her and suddenly, her attention was completely out of any of her surroundings and focused solely on Rafi. “Sanchez _did_ kill Diego?”

“No—” Rafi said loudly before remembering where he was. “No, neither of them did,” he said in a hushed tone. “He killed himself.”

“Why?”

“Because he was found out,” explained Rafi, leaning in towards Rebecca. “Nevada had given the order to have him killed, but Diego beat him to the punch. He stole Nevada’s gun but kept it clean of his own fingerprints. He waited until they were both in a building together, and then he shot himself in the head.”

“He wanted to frame Nevada for the murder,” said Rebecca slowly. It took everything in her to not fall apart. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she could feel tears behind her lids.

“Yea, and he was pretty fucking good at it,” said Rafi. “But Juan took the blame. Him going to jail is one suffering family. Nevada going to jail is a much greater loss. He pays Juan, he pays all of us, you know? And we have no clue who Mateo would have gotten to replace Nevada anyway.

“Things could have gone to absolute shit,” said Rebecca.

“Yea. Like what happened to you guys.”

The Rosas were all in prison. Right. Rebecca nodded.

“Since then, Nevada has been helping the family out as much as he can.”

Rafi went on, stories, examples, whatever, but Rebecca wasn’t listening. She watched silently as the man she once despised danced and all she could hear was the pounding of her own pulse in her ear. _No. No, this can’t be._ How could everything that she thought she knew be wrong? How could Diego have killed himself for the mere chance of putting Nevada in jail instead of escaping and coming back home to her and to his family? She excused herself from the table and walked quickly to the bathroom. She stood in a stall and tried to get her heart rate to go back to normal but all she could think of was how Diego’s skull had been crushed and it was _his own doing._

Nevada didn’t kill Diego, but Diego died to put him in prison. Shouldn’t that make her want to capture him all that much more?

It didn’t. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._ All she knew was that Diego’s murder was the _one thing_ that kept her from admitting how she felt and what she wanted, but now that it was all a lie, she had to say it. She had to _think_ it. It was her new reality.

And it shook her to her core and made her want to tear out her own skin. It hurt and it burned, but there was no point in denying the fact anymore.

She was in love with Nevada. She loved him. She loved him so fucking much that the thought of him being hurt by her made her want to scream. So much that she wasn’t sure anymore of who she was. So much that she was thinking about giving up everything she had worked for just to be with him. Just to be a part of his life. Just to make him her own.

She loved him. It was absolutely, inconceivably, terrifyingly, disgustingly wrong of her. But she loved him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep adding more and more chapters to this but it's always because the chapters I plan on writing start getting way too long so I have to cut them shorter. The story is not changing and I'm not adding anything more to it, it's just a miscalculation on my part.


	25. Rebecca and Nevada

She had wanted to tell Diego that she loved him. She had wanted to tell him that she wanted to be with him. She had wanted to ask him to stay safe and to come back to her, but the words got stuck in her throat and couldn't find a way to her lips so she pushed him out the door even though she wanted him to stay. Maybe if she had told him, asked him, then maybe he wouldn't have done what he did. Maybe he would still be with her. 

When they were together for the last time, he had buried his face in her shoulder, but at one point, he pressed his forehead to hers and watched her. "Am I hurting you?" He'd asked.

The question had caught Rebecca off guard but she had shaken her head no, but later, the words rang in her ears. He hadn't been talking about physical pain when he'd asked her. _Yes, Diego. Yes, you were hurting me_. _And I should have told you_. There were so many things that she could have said to him to make things turn out differently, but she hadn't. All he had needed was the truth. And maybe that's all Nevada needed too. 

Nevada hadn't killed Diego but he had given the order and, if he'd had the chance, he would have done it, too. But he hadn't and Diego could have escaped but he didn't think about the people he loved and he took his own life for the greater good. 

God knows Rebecca would have done the same. 

An announcement was made that everyone was to go outside to the field of grass to watch the fireworks. Isaac offered Rebecca his arm and the two walked together out the doors. They found a spot on a hill, farther away from the rest of the crowd, and she apologized for monopolizing him so completely. He smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders. A few moments passed and he spoke. “Lali, you okay?” he asked. “You seem a little off.”

Rebecca shrugged. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

She leaned her head against him. “It’s just so weird to be here at this family filled event,” she said. “Everyone is cousins or friends or aunts or uncles but I’m just… here.”

“Do you miss your family?”

“I never had one,” she replied without thinking. _Shit_. “I mean—I had a _family_ but not—”

“Hey, no, I get it,” said Isaac. “The Rosas kept you hidden and raised you in the middle of one of the biggest drug rings in the state. Not exactly the ideal family. I get it.”

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. Shit, she needed to be more careful. She was starting to let herself get far too lost in all of this. “Yea, it was a weird situation,” she said.

“You can’t really visit them, can you?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, it’d look suspicious,” she mumbled. “They’d start asking questions about who I was and why I was visiting.”

“Right,” said Isaac. He was silent for a long moment before he squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “I know it isn’t the same, Lali, but you do have a family. You’re a part of this one. I hope you know that.”

Rebecca didn’t say anything to that, mostly because she was afraid that if she tried to speak, she would burst into tears. So it wasn’t just her then. Isaac thought of her as family, and so maybe so did the others. It wasn’t just her projecting what she wanted onto a group of people that made her feel good. It was an actual family that she was a part of. A smile spread across her face and it felt like her soul was dancing.

A family. She was a part of a _family._

Something she was never meant to have, and now she had it.

She and Isaac both looked over their shoulder when they heard someone clearing his throat behind them. Nevada stood, his hands in his pocket, smelling of cigars. “Isaac, give us a minute,” he ordered.

Isaac nodded, “Yes, sir,” and with a smile, left Rebecca to join the rest of the crowd.

Nevada sat down next to her silently and looked at the fireworks exploding above them. He didn’t turn to her, and he didn’t speak, but Rebecca watched him. She watched the colours dance across his solemn face and she felt that familiar swirling in her chest. They sat in silence for what felt like eternity before she finally spoke.

“Nevada, I…” she looked down at the ground by her feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said.” She picked at the grass beside her. She hadn’t planned what she wanted to say and it was difficult to put her feelings into words. “It, it’s not true. I knew it wasn’t true but I said it anyway.” _Nevada Ramirez doesn’t love._ “I was just trying to push you away because…” she look a breath. “Because I’m terrified of… of this. Of us.” 

She hadn’t given Diego the truth and the choice to decide if he wanted to be with her and it was a mistake. She wasn’t going to do that with Nevada.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, still not looking at him. “You’re not nothing to me. You’re not just a partner. You’re… more. I just didn’t want to see it.” _And I love you, too._

Rebecca had no idea what Nevada was thinking or feeling. He remained silent beside her and she waited for him to spit at her or to insult her or to fire her but he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he put his steady hand on top of her fidgety one and when she hesitantly looked up at him, he gave her a look that seemed to say that he’d been waiting for her to say all she had said. It was solemn but soft, and if gave her butterflies.

Rebecca moved her hand so that her palm pressed into his and their fingers were intertwined. Neither of them said much after that. They just watched as the fireworks coloured the night sky.

 

Just under two hours later, the two of them stood next to each other in a dim hotel room and stared at the large bed in the middle of the large, five-star space. Getting here had been more difficult than it should have. Rebecca left her purse (her phone inside it so that the police couldn’t track her) with Fernanda before she and Nevada left the party hours before its end. It had taken them longer than it should have to find one of his drivers to take them where they needed to go.

The two of them sat in the backseat of the car in silence, both staring out the windows at the passing city lights, and their hands still lay intertwined in the empty space between them. They hit traffic when they were a block away from the hotel and instead of sitting restless, Nevada pulled Rebecca out of the car and onto the busy street. The two of them walked the rest of the way to the hotel, still holding hands and once they were inside, Rebecca stared at the ground as Nevada checked in.

Their room was on the 30th floor but there inexplicably were far too many people in the elevator. It was taking far too long for them to get where they wanted so Rebecca pulled Nevada out when they reached the 21st floor and the two of them climbed the stairs up the rest of the way. Nevada ascended the stairs ahead of Rebecca, his arm bent back so he could still clutch her hand in his.

And now, finally, they were alone where they wanted to be. Some place intimate but new, away from the walls that had heard far too much for either of them to feel okay in them. Nevada turned to her first and stepped towards her slowly. Rebecca’s heart seemed to flutter as he looked at her with those big eyes but she leaned her head up and parted her lips as he kissed her.

Her lips closed on his softly. He tasted like cigars and scotch and sugar. His hands rested gently on her bare back as she cupped his face with hers. It all felt so chaste, like a first kiss, and Rebecca found herself wishing that this _was_ their first kiss.

The first time his lips touched hers, she had recoiled in disgust, fear, and repulsion, but now she touched him so tenderly. The first time they fucked was full of anger and spite but now, it felt so sweet and so innocent.

She undid his tie and pushed his jacket off his shoulders. She pulled her lips from his so that she could unbutton his shirt and while she did, Nevada smiled down at her.

“ _Eres espléndida_ ,” he whispered.

Rebecca felt her cheeks flush. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Ramirez,” she murmured.

Nevada pulled at her dress and slowly removed it; his fingers were slow in their movements. He smiled at the goose bumps he left on her dark skin. And then he kissed her again. Still softly, but not as innocently. His tongue ran over hers and his teeth grazed her lips. He pulled her closer to him so that their bare chests pressed against each other.

Rebecca’s nipples were hard and she could feel herself becoming more and more wet as the kiss carried on. Her fingers worked on his belt and soon enough, he was stepping out of his shoes and pants. His hands reached for her underwear but she stopped him. “Wait,” she whispered. “Just-just wait a minute. Nevada, please.”

He pulled his lips from hers but kept his hands on her hips. “What is it?” he asked.

She guided his hands off her and stepped back. “I, uh—let me just, uh, look at you,” she whispered, breathless.

Nevada dropped his arms. He was confused, but he let her look at him.

And look, she did. At his uneven skin, his scars, his veins, his stretch marks. He was completely bare and half hard, but she wasn’t paying attention to that. Looking at him now, it was all just so clear.

This was not Nevada Ramirez The Criminal, not Nevada Ramirez The Murderer. This was Nevada Ramirez, the person. Not a monster, not some hideous pig. A man. That’s all he really was, after all. Just… a man.

Rebecca’s heartbeat sped up as she closed the distance between them and kissed him again. His arms wrapped around her waist as she ran her hands through his gel-covered hair. They moved slowly but blindly towards the bed, bumping into a table on the way there, until finally, Nevada spilled onto his back against the mattress. Rebecca removed her panties and climbed on top of him, straddling him between her legs.

She watched his face as she stroked her wet sex against his hard length thrice before guiding his tip to her entrance. She braced her hands on his chest, his nipples grazing her skin, and sank down onto him slowly. She sighed as he filled her up, stretching all her muscles and hitting just the right spots.

Nevada bit his lips and wrapped his large hands around her thighs as she raised her hips and lowered them again. Her rhythm was slower than he’d ever gone but it was still intoxicating. He watched her bliss-filled face staring back at him as she rode him gently, her hot and wet cunt feeling heavenly around him. Soon, he started moving his hips with hers, following them up when she rose off him filling her in just a bit longer. She shuddered at that.

Rebecca guided one of his hands to her stomach as she rode him and he reached upwards until he touched her breast. She sighed as he stroked it, squeezing and kneading it and rubbing circles on her nipple. She gasped slightly when he, as always, ran his nail over the sensitive nub and he reached up to kiss it in apology. Rebecca followed him when he lay back down and kissed him on the mouth. Her hands moved to rest against the mattress as she continued to move her cunt around his cock. Her movements were starting to speed up, but remained gentle still.

Nevada ran his hands softly over the smooth skin of her back as she rode him and he ran his tongue along hers. The slow-building pleasure was incredible and intoxicating. The way she curved her back each time she thrust gave him a fantastic angle and she gasped at the way the plane of his stomach rubbed against her clit. Their kiss grew more and more breathless until she could barely move from the pleasure.

He took the opportunity to set his own rhythm. He thrust inside of her, deep but slow, and she shivered. He fucked her like that, slow and deep, as she twitched on top of him. _I love you_ , he thought, but she already knew that so he didn’t say it.

She looked amazing as she lay on him, her lips parted and her eyes closed and her cheeks flushed. She gasped sharply when Nevada sped up his movements.

“Is this okay?” he asked, but she didn’t answer him. She just kissed him again and whimpered into his mouth.

Nevada buried himself deep inside of her and stayed there, feeling her clench around him and taking that pleasure for himself. Rebecca gasped and her breath sped up and her legs shook. He held her hips in place as he filled her up so completely. “Ohgodohgodoh _god_ ,” she breathed, gasping lightly. She groaned when he finally pulled out, but immediately, she needed more.

He held tightly onto her and rolled them both over so that she was under him. He kissed her passionately as he thrust into her again. The movements were deep but not too hard and Rebecca felt him inside of her in every sense of the word. She felt him in her veins as her heart pounded against her chest. She felt him in her lungs as she gasped for breath against his mouth. She felt him in her bones as she shook under him. She felt him in her skin and in her head and in her chest. _She felt him_ and he was inebriating, addictive, invigorating.

She let out something akin to a sob as she came. The pleasure spread through her suddenly but filled her up completely. Her legs convulsed as he continued to thrust into her and kiss her eyes. Her orgasm was strong but gentle at the same time, and Nevada came inside of her while she was still quivering. His twitching cock felt strangely celestial as he spilled inside of her and he kissed her once again.

Nevada stayed inside of her even after she stopped shaking but was careful not to pull all of his weight on her. He pressed his forehead against hers and looked into her dazed eyes.

She closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead. When he moved his body so that he lay next to her. Their legs and arms were tangled in the sheets as they pressed their naked bodies to the other's. The quiet of the room settled over them as their breathing slowly returned to normal. Rebecca pressed her head to Nevada's chest as he spread his hand along her spine. It felt warm and it felt right. It felt like home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eres espléndida - you're gorgeous/beautiful/etc


	26. The Calm before the Storm

It wasn’t that Rebecca liked to wake up early in the mornings. Rather, it was that she had become accustomed to it. Most of her life, she had tried to keep busy, and succeeded at doing so, and because of that, she had a habit of waking up five minutes before her alarm every morning and getting out of bed as soon as her eyes opened.

This morning was the first in years that she didn’t want to get up. Things felt nice and the bed was warm and comfortable. A low murmur was all she heard when she drifted into consciousness, but the murmur grew louder until it finally turned into Nevada’s soft voice talking to someone. You wouldn’t have expected his voice to be so smooth considering what he did. Rebecca opened her eyes and shifted so that she could face him.

He was on the hotel’s phone, ordering breakfast. He turned to her when she moved and asked her if she wanted a sweet breakfast or salty.

“Sweet,” mumbled Rebecca, burying her face in her pillow.

“Waffles, pancakes, or French toast?”

“Waffles.”

“Blueberry or chocolate chip?”

“Plain.”

“Syrup or ice cream?”

“Both.”

He chuckled lowly and repeated her order into the phone and hung up. “They’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” he said, moving to lie down next to her. “Good morning.”

Rebecca smiled lazily and scrunched her nose when he kissed it. “Do we have anything to do today?” she asked.

“Yea, but not until the evening,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

She nodded and turned so she could stretch. She was still completely naked from the night and so was Nevada. He’d even taken his necklace and other jewellery off before drifting off, which he never used to do.

They had clung to each other in their sleep, finding warmth in the other’s body in the cold October air, feeling calm and sleeping soundly. Rebecca had stirred from her sleep in the middle of the night. Nevada’s arm had been thrown protectively across her torso and when she shifted away from him, he’d tightened his grip on her and pulled her to his chest in his sleep. She just looked fondly at his peaceful, sleeping face and felt a pleasant warmth stirring inside of her.  

“I love you, Nevada Ramirez,” she had whispered to his sleeping form. “And I wish so much that you knew the truth. Then I could know if you truly loved me, or if you only love who I’m pretending to be.”

He hadn’t stirred at all at her murmured confession and she found herself almost— _almost_ —hoping he had heard it.

Now, she watched him sit up and pick his jewellery up from his bedside table. He slipped the delicate golden chain over his head and then replaced his diamond ring on his finger.

“You should get me one of those,” mumbled Rebecca.

“One of what?”

“Those rings,” she said. “You should get me one.”

He paused, looking at the ring on his finger a moment. “You want me to marry you?” he asked as a clarification.

She started a bit, not expecting that reaction. “No, I want a fancy ring.”

“So you don’t want to get married.” Said Nevada.

Rebecca looked at him questioningly. “What do you want?”

“I want to do whatever makes you happy,” he said simply.

She smiled at him teasingly. “Did you just propose to me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you say yes?” When she pouted, he chuckled. “Maybe I did,” he said. “Maybe I didn’t.”

“I think you did.”

“Okay,” he said in a far too tranquil manner. He lowered himself so he was closer to her, propping his head up with one hand as he played with Rebecca’s hair, which was sprawled all over her pillow. “So I did.”

Was this actually happening? “You want to marry me,” she clarified, staring up at the man.

“I want to make you happy,” he murmured, running his fingers through strands of her hair. “I want to give you whatever you want, so if you want to marry me, that is what I will do.”

She took a deep breath. “What if I want a family?” she asked.

“Then we’ll have a family,” he replied without the slightest hesitation.

She paused. “What if I… _can’t_ have a family?” she asked.

His eyes went from her hair to her face. He watched her for a short moment, trying to read her face and figure out what the implications of her words were. “Then I’ll figure out a way to get you one,” he said.

Rebecca let out a short, sad laugh. “How can you do that?” she asked, but it wasn’t much of a question. She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Baby, I think you underestimate just how much money can buy,” said Nevada, running a finger down the side of her face lightly. “Whatever you want, I will get for you.”

She smiled softly at him. Reaching up with one hand, Rebecca stroked his chest, her fingers smoothing over his uneven skin. If she pressed her hand flat on his chest and spread her fingers, she could touch one scar with her thumb and another with her pinkie finger. “What if this is what I want?” she whispered lowly.

Nevada smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling. He didn’t say anything, just leaned down and kissed her. His lips were soft against hers and the kiss was slow. Lazy, like the morning was.

The Sun slowly rose over the city and more and more light shone through the translucent curtains onto the bed. The bed sheet was the only thing that separated Nevada’s skin from Rebecca’s as he moved on top of her. His weight was on his knees and his hands as he consciously tried not to lean on her. She ran her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, along his back, over that magnificent ass of his, and then back up. It felt like they were kissing for hours.

“So, was that a yes?” he mumbled between kisses.

“To marrying you?”

“Yes.”

“Ask me tomorrow,” said Rebecca teasingly. She felt him smile against his lips.

“What will you say then?” he asked, pulling away so he could look at her.

“You'll find out tomorrow,” she said.

He chuckled and gave her one final, small kiss. “I love you, Lali,” he said to her.

Rebecca’s smile faded at his words. She knew he wouldn’t say it often because that’s how he was. She knew he wouldn’t treat her any differently when there were other people around. She knew that he would still use her in a power play during meetings with clients and partners. She knew all this and she was okay with it because she knew how he felt. But would he still love her after he found out? To him, she was not Rebecca. She was Lali. She was not a cop from a small town; she was a worker in a drug ring.

No. He deserved to know the truth. She owed him that.

Nevada furrowed his brow questioningly at her, noticing her sudden unease. She took a breath, mentally counted to three, and spoke. “Nevada, I—”

The knock on the door cut her off. “You better get that,” she mumbled and reluctantly, Nevada did. He pulled on his pair of boxers from the floor, and opened the door for room service. The table was left in the middle of the room for the two of them.

“It looks great,” said Rebecca, smiling.

“It tastes better,” replied Nevada.

He helped her out of bed and they ate breakfast together. It was sugary and light and absolutely delicious. They spoke about nothing important over their meal and when they finished, they were pleased. The itch Rebecca felt in the back of her brain to tell Nevada everything was silenced for a while. Why ruin a perfectly pleasant day? She could tell him tomorrow.

The two of them stepped into the shower afterwards and washed each other’s hair. He kissed her shoulders and soaped her back as she lathered her arms. They didn’t have sex in the shower, although she knew he would have loved it. But she didn’t want to turn this day into a fucking marathon. She just wanted to be with him.

The fact that this felt so pleasantly domestic was a bit unsettling. Even after falling in love with him, Rebecca still saw Nevada as a total hard ass. It was different, so different, to see him behave…well, like a person. She knew it wouldn’t last. She knew that by the morning, he would be back to his old self and she would be fine because that is who she fell for in the first place. It was just so great to know that he did have sweetness inside of him. Their partners will all think he fucked her all day and he wouldn’t contradict them. But she knew and he knew. It could be their little secret.

Rebecca donned a bathrobe while Nevada shaved in the bathroom (this suite fucking had everything!) and she picked up their clothing from the floor. It was noon and the Sun was high in the sky. Rebecca pulled back the curtains and looked down at the city below her, the buildings, the cars, the people. They were so high up that she couldn’t hear any of the sounds they made. It was her oasis. A calm amidst the chaos.

Or at least that what she pretended it was for the time being.

Nevada emerged from the bathroom and wrapped his arms around Rebecca’s waist, pressing his body to her back and resting his head on her shoulder. “Fernanda called,” he told her. “She said your phone has been ringing nonstop all day.”

“Oh.”

“You alright?” he asked. “You seem a little tense.”

“I’m fine.” She didn’t mention the old brown car she’d noticed that had been circling the hotel with Craig in the driver’s seat.

 

Rebecca told him that she didn’t feel like working that day so Nevada told the driver to take her home. He was dropped off at his meeting where Pablo and Mateo were already waiting and then he drove to Nevada’s house.

She leaned her head back as she watched the city move around her from the car window. It was late in the evening and the Sun had set and the uneasiness that had been fluttering in Rebecca’s stomach all day finally settled in its pit. She resisted the urge to scream at the driver to stop when she saw Sarah standing on the end of the road.

Rebecca stood in front of the house, watching Sarah. She couldn’t see her face from so far away but she knew she was watching her right back.

“Who is that?”

She turned to look at Isaac, who had appeared in the doorway. “I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

She furrowed her brow. “Of course I am,” she said.

“She’s been lurking around here all day.”

She nodded, pretending to contemplate something. “I can take care of it,” she finally said.

Isaac looked uneasy. “Are you sure? Do you need me to come with you?” he asked. He stared at her as if he was mentally calculating.

“No,” said Rebecca. “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t have time to worry about what Isaac was thinking because she had to take care of Sarah first. She decided she could deal with Isaac afterwards.

That ended up being her biggest mistake.


	27. Neither Here Nor There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't actually edited this chapter yet so just ignore any mistakes I have made. I will probably fix them later on. Anyway, hope you like the chapter and I'm sorry it took so long for the update. It was not that I didn't want to write but rather because I was away for a couple of weeks!

Rebecca was wondering how it was that, only an hour after she had finally fallen asleep, her head was resting in just the right position for the sun to shine though the window directly onto her face. _Oh wait, I know why_ , she thought. _It's because the world fucking hates me_. She turned over and away from the light but it was no use. She was awake and so she was thinking. 

She picked her phone up off the cold floor, thankful that she had turned back and grabbed it, along with changed into jeans and a t-shirt, before going to talk to Sarah. 

There were many unread texts from many people, but she only read the two that mattered: Nevada's. She texted him last night and let him know that something came up about her family business that she needed to take care of immediately. His response: _Ok stay safe sxy_. And then, just over an hour ago at 5:52am, _Where are u_. No question mark; he never added question marks. Probably an act of laziness, but it made every single one of his texts seem like a command. 

Rebecca was completely alone in the building but she knew it wouldn't be long before everyone else arrived, so she took the opportunity to delete anything off her phone that made it seem like she had some sort of conflict of interest. No sexy messages, no flirting, not even recreational texting or 'how are you?' texts. Nothing. No pictures. No nudes, no selfies with him. Nothing. Nothing. 

Nothing. 

Because that's what she'd been telling the police all night and she had a feeling that that's all she would be doing all day today as well. _What is wrong with you? How the hell could you think that I would have feelings for that– that_ thing _?!_ She'd yelled at one point, but they still didn't believe her. Honestly, she never thought it would come to this.

“It sure took you long enough,” Sarah had said when Rebecca approached her the night before. “Where’ve you been, Becca?”

“You know exactly where I was,” Rebecca had replied curtly.

“You didn’t have your phone on you.”

“You still knew,” she countered. “Sarah, you need to go. Now.”

“Okay, but you’re coming with me,” said Sarah.

“Are you fucking _insane_?” hissed Rebecca. “What if they realize who you are?!”

“They won’t,” she said. “But you need to come with us to the police station.” As if on cue, Craig, still driving that shitty old brown car, turned onto the street.

“You both are going to get us all fucking _killed_ ,” hissed Rebecca, her fists clenching at her sides. _I should have told Nevada when I had the chance._

“Not if you come with us.”

“You’re both nuts.” Rebecca moved to turn away but what Sarah said made her stop.

“ _Brian_ wants you to come down to the station.”

Brian was supposed to be on her side. “What?” she said.

“You know what?” said Craig, stepping out from the car. “That’s enough dilly-dallying. Let’s _go_.” He grabbed Rebecca and Sarah followed suit.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed. “Do you seriously think they aren’t watching us?!” Rebecca didn’t know for completely sure if Isaac _was_ watching but the statement made Craig and Sarah back off. “I’ll go with you,” she sighed, defeated, as she climbed into the back of the ghost car.

She’d thought the two of them had ambushed her but that was nothing to the four other police officers waiting for them when they arrived at the closed station. Each of them had been an officer assigned to trail Rebecca when she was outside the Ramirez home in order to protect her. It suddenly became very clear that they all suspected her of switching sides. They weren’t necessarily wrong, but it still pissed Rebecca off.

“Where is Brian?” she asked.

“He’s on his way,” said Craig.

“You’re lying.”

He didn’t respond.

For the rest of the night, they interrogated Rebecca. They asked her absurd and intimate and double-edged questions. They threw accusations her way that were completely ludicrous. They wouldn’t believe her when she said she was on their side. The wouldn’t let her leave and at times even physically move her away from the exit.

 _Why haven’t you arrested Ramirez yet? What were you doing at that hotel with him all night? Why are you going on shopping trips and to parties instead of focusing on the mission? Why haven’t you told us more about the document exchange?_ All very straightforward answers, but they got worse as the night got on.

_Are you fucking him? Are you fucking him because you want to? We’ve all seen the way you act around him._

_That’s because it’s a fucking ACT!_ Rebecca screamed.

_Have you planned on switching sides all along? Did you want to find a way to start working for Ramirez? What have you done? What would Diego think?_

She couldn’t talk to them. It was no use. They had made up their minds about her and there was nothing she could say or do to change them and so Rebecca stopped answering their questions. She would occasionally ask where Brian was but otherwise, she didn’t say anything until, finally, they shoved her into the holding cell. That was when she truly lost it.

“ _What do you fucking assholes think you’re doing_!?” she’d shouted but they didn’t respond. “What, aren’t you going to take my belt and shoelaces?” she’d mocked once they locked the bars. “That’s the standard procedure during incarceration, after all! Don’t want to break the rules, now do we?”

“Give us your phone.”

“No.”

“Give. Us. Your. _Phone._ ”

“ _No._ ” Rebecca was shaking from anger. “Unless you start reading me my Miranda rights and calling me a lawyer, _you can’t make me do anything._ ”

Hours later, Rebecca was still inside the holding cell, still pissed off. The simple thoughts of the events were giving her a headache. After everything even mildly suspicious was deleted from her phone, she set it down and buried her head in her hands.

Everything was going wrong. Everything was wrong. How was she going to get out of here? And how on earth would she explain where she was to Nevada?

“Alright, Rebecca. Time to—oh, you’re already up! Perfect.”

She looked up to see Craig, Sarah, and two other officers walk into the station. Craig inserted a USB into the computer on the desk while an officer opened the bars and let her out. They made her sit on the chair in front of the computer and didn’t answer her when she asked what they were doing until windows popped up with all the contents of her phone, including everything she had deleted just moments before.

“You hacked my phone!? You can’t do that without a warrant!”

“Sweetheart, we have reason to believe that you are committing treason,” said one of the officers. “We don’t need a warrant.”

Rebecca felt paralyzed as they opened a folder full of her photos and videos. They went through the pictures one by one.

Photo of Nevada and Isaac. Photo of Carlos. Photo of Carlos and Fernanda. Photo of Rebecca and Fernanda. Photo of Rebecca and Nevada, whose arm was draped over her shoulder.

Photo of Nevada sleeping shirtless.

Photo, a selfie, of both Rebecca and Nevada.

Nude photo of Nevada.

And then, finally, a video. One that she had deleted from her phone the day after it had been made well over a week ago. They’d suspected her for this long.

 _Please don’t play this,_ she wanted to beg.

“We were hoping you would explain this,” Sarah said as she pressed play. “You will see why we are concerned.”

 _Nevada, stop that!_ Said Rebecca’s voice through the speaker of the computer. The screen showed her, naked but hiding underneath the bed covers as Nevada filmed her. _You look so sexy,_ cariño _. I just want to capture this moment forever,_ he said, to which Rebecca replied: _Then use your own phone,_ amor _._ Some rustling as Nevada shifted from beside her to above her. – _Want me to fuck you? –Si. –Ser cortés. –Por favor, Nevada._ The sound of Nevada’s low chuckle as he put the phone down on the bed. The screen went black but there was still some audio.

“Turn it off,” said Rebecca.

They didn’t turn it off and she was forced to sit at her seat, held down by her shoulders as the rustling of bed sheets sounded through the speakers.

“Please.”

Nevada’s groan came next.

Rebecca closed her eyes from pure defeat. Her own gasps, the sound of her own flesh meeting Nevada’s, his moans of pleasure, they all flooded her ears. _Fuck._

She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg. She wanted to scream. But she just sat, still and silent, waiting for the humiliation to end but it just settled deeper into the pit of her stomach. _Fuck._

“Turn that off.”

The audio was stopped immediately as the officers turned to the man who’d just entered the room.

“Chief, we thought you weren’t coming in until night—”

“Well it’s good that I came early then, isn’t it?” Brian barked, walking towards them. “What is the meaning of all this!?”

“We were—”

“I’ve been here since yesterday, Brian,” said Rebecca monotonously. “They think I have betrayed them. Switched sides.”

Brian ground his teeth. “Rebecca, go wait for me in my office,” he said.

The policepersons shifted uncomfortably as Rebecca left the room. She could hear Brian’s voice being raised to them when through the walls, his voice too muffled for her to make out what he was saying, but that didn’t matter because she didn’t really care what was being said at this point. She stumbled into a chair, her head spinning, her stomach churning. What was she going to do now? Whereas she hadn’t actually switched sides, there was no way she could tell them that she was no longer interested in being their spy. She couldn’t be neutral in this. It was impossible. Because if she didn’t report everything, that meant she was an accessory to countless crimes. But she couldn’t tell them everything Nevada had done and had planned, either. Not unless she wanted the next time she saw Nevada to be through a wall of glass with a phone pressed to his ear.

She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. She hadn’t felt this nervous since the first time she knocked on Nevada’s door. That alone seemed a lifetime ago. And it was, wasn’t it? It was a part of her life when she was still on the right side. Before she was, for lack of a better word, corrupt.

But she couldn’t think of that now. It would only make her feel panicked and anxious and guilty. What she needed to do was get mad again. She had to get mad because that’s what the logical reaction would be for a person in this situation. So she sat and ran through all the things that had happened until she was fuming again. When Brian finally walked into the room, she was pacing the floor.

“Rebecca, why don’t you sit down?” he said as he walked over to his chair and sat behind his desk.

“What don’t you tell me how the _fuck_ you let them do this to me?” she spat. “I _told_ you they were getting suspicious of me and you said you would handle it!”

“I thought I did.”

“ _BRIAN, THEY PUT IN A FUCKING HOLDING CELL!”_ she screamed. “How is that handling it!?”

“Becca, please sit down—”

“I could fucking kill them,” she muttered. “I could kill them I could fucking, fucking _kill them_ I fucking could…”

“Rebecca, I know you’re upset—”

She turned to face him. “Upset is not a strong enough word,” she said. “I don’t think there is a word in any languages in existence that is strong enough to articulate how I feel right now.”

He nodded solemnly as she sat down in the chair across from him, her shoulders still stiff. “I assure you, there will be severe repercussions to this.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t give a shit about any of them,” she said, her voice back to a normal volume. “But, Brian, I need to go back. My being here at all is dangerous and Nevada is probably already wondering where I am.”

“No, of course,” he said. “I understand. You should never have been brought here in the first place.”

Rebecca looked at him carefully. “What is it?” she asked.

“Hm? Nothing.”

“No, there is something you want to say to me,” she insisted. “I can tell by your face. What is it?”

“I don’t have anything to tell,” he said. “I was… I just guess I didn’t realize you were… _with_ him.”

 _Oh you have got to be shitting me._ “You can’t seriously say that you’re surprised,” she said. “How did you think I got this far into Nevada’s circle in five months when Diego barely got into his house after six?”

Brian looked at her in a way that she had never seen him look at her before: disappointedly. “You just didn’t see like the type.”

Rebecca’s blood boiled at the comment. “You cannot be serious right now,” she said. “I’m not even going to _entertain_ the idea that this is about who I am because when I am out there, I am Lali Rosa, _not_ Rebecca Meza. Do you seriously think this is me having, like, some sort of boss-employee affair? Because it’s _not_. I am doing what I had to and you know what? When it comes down to it, I am a woman.”

“I’ve never let that affect how I view you, Rebecca!” said Brian.

“I know you haven’t,” she said. “But those men aren’t like that. The moment they looked at me, they didn’t see a person. They saw tits. And ass. And pussy.” Brian shifted awkwardly but she didn’t care. “I know it. You know it. That’s why you were so hesitant to send me out in the first place.”

“Rebecca—”

“You _knew_.” She hissed, standing up. “You knew that when I went in there, there was a very real possibility that I would get raped. You have no problem with Nevada fucking me against my will but as soon as I agree to it, I’m some sort of slut?” Rebecca leaned her hands on the table. “I _got_ what we wanted, what we _needed._ I did what ever I had to so. Is that not reason enough to trust that I know what I am doing? Is it not reason enough to trust _me?_ ”

Brian looked down sheepishly and apologized. A few minutes later, Rebecca took a cab ride back to where Nevada lived. As always, she gave the cabbie a wrong address and walked the fifteen-minute difference. It was late in the afternoon and she grabbed a sandwich from a shop because she hadn’t eaten since the evening before. Her phone was almost dead and her hair was a complete mess, but she just wanted to get home.

She had come up with an excuse of where she was. Something elaborate, something that would be worthy of panic in the drug cartel community. Something to do with grandparents.

She was just rehearsing the final story in her mind when she sensed something wrong. The street seemed eerily quiet and when she walked into the house, it was completely empty, which had was only ever something that happened early in the mornings.

“Hello? Anybody home?” she called out as she walked through the main floor but no body answered. Rebecca frowned, feeling unnerved, but continued towards her bedroom. She needed to take a shower ASAP, but when she neared her room, she saw the light was on. “Hello?” She repeated.

Nevada answered and she froze. _No._ Her gut twisted. Her heart seemed to stop as her breathing hitched. _Nononononono..._ Dear god, this could not be happening. 

His words hung heavily in the air and they seemed to suffocate her.

“In here, Rebecca,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cariño - sweetheart/etc.  
> amor - love  
> si - yes  
> ser cortés - be polite  
> por favor - please


	28. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. Personal issues which meant I needed to take a break from everything, but not to worry! I am okay and hopefully will be updating regularly once again. I love you all.

Isaac had a superpower.

Pablo had one as well, and so did Rafi. There were reasons beyond a proven track record for fierce, unwavering loyalty that got them into Nevada’s inner circle. They each had superpowers that benefitted him in unique ways. Rafi was able to make connections that no one else could. He would know that person A is connected to person B by the type of shoe they wore or the pocket they kept their wallet in. Pablo was more of a hit man. He had the least amount of conscience of them all: a total psychopath. It was because of this that he had no problem pouring gasoline on people during interrogations (for example).

And Isaac, the man who seemed too kind for this world, his superpower was his memory. Photographic memory and attention to detail. Seems utterly simple but may very well be the most important superpower of all. He could read facial cues, nervous habits. He could see every emotion a person felt and if he actually knew the person, he could do it even faster. And that is how Rebecca got caught.

The process was elementary, really.

Months ago, Rebecca and Rafi went to talk to the police with a false noise complaint that would ultimately put Nicolás in jail. At that talk, Sarah was stationed down the block, listening to everything through the radio in her cop car. At the end of the talk, Isaac came to pick Becca and Rafi up and drove by the police car on the way. He made sure to get a good look at the officer inside and remembered that he’d seen her face somewhere before.

He then began to notice her more and more often but attributed that to coincidence, believing that she lived in the area, but when she showed up at the end of their street, he knew something was wrong. He could tell by Rebecca’s face that she recognized the woman but still, she lied to him and said she didn’t know who the stranger was.

And so, Isaac approached the surveillance group and had them search the police department database with a description of the woman until they came up with the match. With this information, Isaac went to Nevada, who did not believe him but, after hours (yes, hours) of insistence, Nevada went to the surveillance team and had them do search using a photo of Lali Rosa, who none of them had seen before, until finally, a photo of Rebecca Meza from the database popped up on the screen.

Within minutes, Nevada was tearing apart her room, flipping furniture, ripping at loose boards, tearing down curtains until finally, in a small pocket carved into the wall in the closet, right above the threshold, he found a card ID and a badge.

Rebecca Meza. NYPD.

That was it, then, wasn’t it? It was all a lie.

“Rebecca Meza,” he said when she walked into the room, reading the ID and badge he held in his hands. “Special officer of the New York Police Department.”

He watched her face carefully as she stepped slowly into the room, the horror displayed so clearly in her expression. She looked around at the chaos surrounding her before even attempting to meet his stare. “I can explain,” she said weakly.

Nevada raised his brows at her but she didn’t say anything more. “I’m waiting,” he prompted.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Right,” he chuckled, throwing the ID and badge onto the bed. The action moved his jacket a bit to the side. Only a bit, but enough for Rebecca to see that he had his gun in his belt. That was something he did only when he planned to use it. Otherwise, he kept it in his inside pocket.

She swallowed. “I was,” she said nervously. “Really. I was but I hadn’t gotten the chance to before this.”

Nevada was not convinced. He kept his eyes on her, his expression almost amused.   
“How convenient,” he said.

“Nevada, please,” said Rebecca, praying that Nevada didn’t mistake her sincerity for desperation. “Let’s just take a minute to cool off and—”

“Shut the fuck up”

“I know you don’t believe me right now –”

He groaned, putting his hand to his face, but Rebecca continued anyway.

“—But I am not working against you.”

He was already mad but was just hiding it. Something about what she just said, however, seemed to push him to the edge. “You’re not working against me?” he exclaimed. “You’re a _fucking cop_. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow your head off right now.”

“I was against you at first but I’m with you now”

“Why is that,” he spat.

“Because…” _Because I love you._ “Because I want to,” said Rebecca.

He stalked towards her and it took everything in her power to stand her ground. She honestly had no idea what he would do to her now that he knew. Truth be told, she was fucking terrified. Her heart felt ready to jump out of her chest.

“You’re not even going to deny it, are you?” Nevada snarled when he got close to her. “You had me. You really, _really_ had me.” He scoffed but his words grew harsher. “And I knew when I met you that I couldn’t trust you. And I knew when I fucked you, it’d blow up in my face.”

“Nevada—”

“And that’s all you were good for, too. A convenient _fuck_.” With the last word, he shoved her back with one hand. An intimidation tactic that she didn’t succumb to.

 _What about the other night_ , Rebecca thought. _Didn’t feel very convenient. Didn’t feel like a fuck._ But she didn’t speak.

“You’re nothing but a hot piece of ass,” Nevada continued. “That’s the only reason why I let you in here in the first place.”

She shook her head slowly as she spoke. “We both know that’s not true. You just want to hurt me right now.”

“If I wanted to hurt you, this conversation would be much, much different.”

She felt her throat constrict as she said the next words. “You told me you love me, Nevada.”

He didn’t falter. “I’ve told you a lot of things. You can’t just assume they’re all the truth.”

“But you _do_ love me, Nevada.”

This seemed to anger him all over again. He pushed her again. “You want to fucking _bet_? Two seconds and I’ll show just how much I _love_ you.” The word felt like spit on her cheek. “You’re a fucking liar and a fucking bitch. You think I could _ever_ want you? Could ever look at you and see anything more than a walking pair of tits?” He looked at her in a way he never looked at her before and it made her feel tiny. “You came in here with your pants practically around your ankles and you think that I fell for your _personality_?”

“But you did,” she whimpered the words she wanted to scream.

He gave her another shove. “What’d you tell them, huh? What do they know, _how much_ do they know?” Another shove. “Do they know about Halloween? Do they know about the new operation?”

“Nevada—”

Another one. “Do they know that you’ve been on your knees for me for months? What’d you tell them?”

When she didn’t answer, he got more aggressive. His shoves got harder, his voice got louder. He asked the same question over and over and it all blurred together.

What did you say.

Tell me.

Tell right now or I swear I will beat the life out of you—

“ _What do you want me to say?!_ ” Rebecca finally yelled. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wet. Nevada waited for her to continue and after a shuddering breath, she did. Slowly. Deliberately.

“You already found my badge.”

He slapped her. Hard. He swung his arm without thinking. The back of his hand cut clean across her cheek. His ring sliced open her skin and interrupted the sound of flesh meeting flesh. Little drops of blood oozed to the surface slowly. Her hair fell over her face.

She kept her head down as she gasped in air sharply. The strike had knocked the oxygen from her lungs. She waited for his hands on her again and she didn’t have to wait very long.

Nevada grabbed her by her shoulders and swung her around, throwing her roughly onto the bed, face down. By the time Rebecca turned onto her back to face him, she was staring into the barrel of his gun. She froze.

_Oh, god. No._

_Please._

She knew what she could do. Even now. She knew how to move so that she would remain unharmed. She knew how to knock the gun out of his hand. Hell, she knew how to get it into her own hand.

But Nevada’s arm was shaking. He was trying so fucking hard to keep it steady.

Rebecca stared into his eyes. God, they were beautiful even now. _I love you_ , she thought. _I love you so fucking much_ but she couldn’t say it. The words got stuck in her throat.

And what good would it do, really, if she told him now?

And so there she was, propped up on her elbows, waiting to die. Waiting for the bullet to enter her head slowly and all at once. Waiting for death. Waiting for her body to go cold. But all she could do was silently proclaim her love for her murderer.

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…_

He lowered the gun and Rebecca let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

_I love you._

There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. “Get out,” he said. His voice was harsh but his lashes were wet. “ _Now_.”

_I love you._

“Nevada—”

_I love you._

“ _NOW!_ ”

She started, but obeyed. She rushed out of the room and down the hall, out the door and down the street. She had to force herself to stop thinking about the tear she saw on his cheek as she left because if that stayed on her mind, then she knew she would go back to him. And if she did that, he would kill her.

So she started running.

She ran as fast as she could, as far as she could.

She ran until her lungs burned and she had to stop to throw up behind a dying bush. Then she kept running. Her heart ached but running felt like the only thing she could do that kept her from dying.


	29. Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here, I'm here! This is a short chapter (sorry) but I actually added much more to it than I had originally planned, which was going to be less than 1000 words.

She stared at herself in the fogged up mirror, her reflection blurry, but she was almost afraid of what she would look like so she didn’t bother wiping it. She dug around the drawers of the vanity until she found a pair of scissors. She needed a clean slate but that was out of the question, but Rebecca had to have some sort of change.

Her hair had gotten long. The girls Nevada kept around always had it long so she’d been growing it out for a while now but that was done. Little by little, she cut her hair, letting the still dripping strands to fall at her feet. She cut it so it was to the shoulders, just but barely enough to be able to put it up in a ponytail. It was an uneven cut, but that didn’t really matter. It was enough.

Enough to make her feel different than the person she had become since the wretched summer had begun. Different than the person who could possibly love a monster like Nevada.

The day he found out, she ran for hours until she finally reached an old red door. She hadn’t been sure what took her there but after everything that had happened, Rebecca didn’t know where else to go. She just knew she didn’t want to feel alone again. So she went to the first people she considered family.

Ana had been horrified when she opened the door to see here, shaking, sweating, bleeding. They hadn’t seen each other in well over a year but still, Rebecca was embraced and fed and given clean clothes. She had sat on the old single bed in the tiny bedroom where Diego grew up, staring at the pictures and posters that still hung on the walls. She couldn’t control her sobs and Ana was kind enough to pretend not to hear.

This wasn’t supposed to be her life.

Rebecca spent the night but, despite countless protests, left the next morning. She went to her old apartment building and moved back into her old, dust-covered and spider-infected apartment that she hadn’t bothered to sublet. She knew what she had to do but she just was praying that she had the willpower to see it through. It was too late now to do anything else.

Her coworkers were caught completely off guard when she walked in shortly before noon in casual clothing but she ignored their stares as she marched up to a flabbergasted Brian.

“We have three days,” she said.

“Rebecca, what are you—”

“I have the names—both real and fake—of every criminal they plan on taking over the border. Show me a map and I can point out all the routes.”

“Rebecca, what are you _doing_ here?”

“Why else would I be here, Brian?” she said forcibly. “I’ve been caught.” She looked over her shoulder to Sarah, who stood wide-eyed, watching. “They recognized you.” Sarah looked away, and Rebecca turned back to Brian. “They know I know, but they also have no choice but to continue on with this mission. And we only have three days to get them.”

 

“We can’t cancel,” said Nevada to his men. “There is no way we can start over now.”

“Sir, three days is plenty of time—” began Isaac.

“Three days is nothing, _carbon._ ”

“I never did trust that whore,” muttered Pablo.

“Hey, shut the fuck up, you little _prick_!” yelled Nevada. “You think you could do a better fucking job at this than me, huh? Do you?”

“No, sir—”

“You want to try it out? You want to give it a go?”

“No—”

“Then watch the way you fucking talk to me or I will cut your tongue in half with a fucking butter knife.” Nevada turned to the rest of his men. “Does anyone else have anything to say about the way I’m running things and who I’m letting in?”

The men mumbled nos and ducked their heads.

“Fucking fantastic. Now get out of my sight, all of you.”

Nevada sat once he was alone in the room and gulped down a glass of whiskey. He told them all that Lal— _Rebecca_ never bothered coming back to the house. He said she found out and ran like the coward they all knew she was.

Because even he didn’t know why he let her walk out of there. Or why he didn’t choke her to death right then and there.

_Fuck._

The mission was happening in three days and they had to assume that the nark had told the police _everything._ So the change to the plan was that there would be much more chaos caused by his men. Once the cops were spotted on sight, all hell would break loose.

Make it impossible for them to rally everyone, make it impossible for them to surround the participants.

As he poured another glass, he wondered if he would even see her there.

 

The next 72 hours were the longest of Rebecca’s life but when the time came, she felt ill. There was no way she could sit this out. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be allowed. She knew the plan inside and out and even though she ran it over with the entire team multiple times and they all came up with countless last minute changes that Nevada may have decided upon. The team was as ready as ever and there was no doubt in any of their minds that Nevada would be caught.

The NYPD now had their faith restored in Rebecca. Craig and Sarah had attempted to speak with her and apologize, but she didn’t let them anywhere near her. There was absolutely no forgiving what they had done to her. Even if it hadn’t resulted in Nevada finding out, she could never see them as anything more than the pigs they were.

As hour one approached, the knots in her stomach deepened, but most of that came from the thought of seeing Nevada again. Did she truly love him? When she was with him, for all those months, was she really herself? Maybe she’d just gotten far too caught up in the act. She didn’t love him. Lali Rosa loved him. And Lali wasn’t real.

Right?

_Fuck._

It didn’t matter. She was on the side of the law. She didn’t really have another choice now, did she? She couldn’t give herself up and she couldn’t walk away without there being consequences for her treason or whatever the fuck they would undoubtedly charge her with.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t _fucking_ matter.

Her feelings didn’t matter. The knots in her stomach didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. Only the mission mattered.

 

He stood, watching, from afar. The cops were ready for them before they even stepped foot onto the soil. That’s why the documents had all already exchanged hands and all that needed to be done was the pick up of the thugs they were transporting.

There were a lot of gunshots. A lot of yelling. A lot of screaming. And a lot of music. There were the sounds of drunken laughter coming from the neighbourhood delinquents from all sides of the yard.

Two of his men lay in a pool of their own blood.

No one saw him.

No one.

Except for her.

He didn’t know how he knew it was her but he knew. In all her glory, there she was. She was in full protective gear. She was armed. She was dressed all in black and covered head to toe.

He knew she saw him, too.

 

She should have shot him. He didn’t raise an arm, or a gun. He just stared at her. She couldn’t even make out the features on his face, he was too far away, but still she knew his eyes were on her. She saw him ages ago and she should have killed him or let someone else on her team know about it.

Everyone was jumping over each other. The NYPD was trying to stop the gang from dispersing. It was messy and it was difficult. The operators they had on standby were trying to track the routes Nevada’s men were taking. People were beginning to clear out from the area and split into smaller teams.

But Rebecca wasn’t paying attention to anything other than Nevada. He turned around and slowly disappeared completely behind the hill from which he was watching. Before anyone could ask her to do anything or give her orders or expect anything from her, she slung away.

She followed Nevada even though she knew that is what he wanted her to do. She followed him straight into one of his own warehouses. A slightly smaller one but less filled with random shit than most. She followed him in and allowed the enormous gate to close behind her.

It wasn’t smart but she did it anyway. What did it matter if it was the last thing she ever did? After all, she didn’t have much to live for.

 

He turned to her once their ears stopped buzzing, once they adjusted to this new, sudden silence.

He knew just where his gun was but he kept his hands empty as he raised them to his sides as if welcoming her.

“I figured that this was a good place to talk,” he said.

 

Rebecca took a deep breath and pretended it was even the slightest bit comforting and approached him with her hands as empty as his.

“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the "confrontation" or whatever the best word for it is. The one after, the last one, is the decline and won't be long.


	30. Break

He seemed very calm, but Rebecca knew that didn’t mean that he was. He leaned against a wall that wasn’t lined with shelves. His jaw and all of his muscles were relaxed even as she approached him. She took off her headgear and dropped it to the ground. She wanted him to see her face entirely and found herself wondering if he saw any change.

“You first,” he said.

“I don’t have anything to say,” she said, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“You seemed like it last time we spoke,” said Nevada.

“Last time we spoke,” reminded Rebecca, “You were pointing a gun at me.”

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. “That, I was.”

“What do you want, Nevada?”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” he countered casually. “What do _you_ want?”

Rebecca was not able to respond before her walkie came on; a static-filled voice on the other end was barely discernable but it echoed off the large warehouse walls. She spoke into it. “I’m all clear. I’ll call if I see anything or if I need backup. Over.” Turning back to Nevada, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Instead of an answer, Nevada approached her quickly and, grabbing her shoulders, slammed her against the wall. She gasped as her head banged off the brick but Nevada was not fazed. “I'm going to fucking kill you,” he snarled.

“That’s what you wanted to do the other day but you _didn’t_ ,” Rebecca hissed back at him. “In fact, I've lost count of how many times you've said that to me. And I've lost count on how many times you’ve had my back against a wall but I've always made it out alive.”

He moved to strike her. With her against the wall, he thought it would be easy but she dodged him and grabbed the back of his neck. With a few quick moves to throw off his balance, Rebecca soon had Nevada on his stomach with his arm twisted behind him.

“Do you really think I can’t fight you?” asked Rebecca, her anger bursting out of her voice. “Do you really think I haven’t been trained for this? Every time, _every single fucking time_ you thought you had the upper hand, I had always known how to turn the situation on its head. Ever since that first night when you had me pinned against the kitchen wall with my own gun in my mouth.” She paused to laugh. It was almost funny. “You don’t know me. You have no fucking clue who I am.”

“Get off,” he muttered, scrambling to his feet once she reluctantly freed him. “So it was all a lie, then. Everything was a fucking lie.”

“Yea.” She took a few steps back to increase the distance. “Yea. At first.”

“Don't you dare try and pull that shit on me, Lali,” he said.

“I'm not pulling anything. And judging by the fact that you're still calling me Lali, you believe me.”

He shook his head. “I just don't know what else to call you.”

She almost smiled. “I like Lali,” she said.

“Yea, me too,” said Nevada, almost breaking his tough veneer but recovering just as quickly. “But Lali doesn’t exist. You just needed me for your fucking case. But I was really the stupid _pinche idiota_ that believed you were who you said you were.”

He waited for her to answer but she only rubbed her lips together.

“That's it, isnt it?” he said. “You were using me. Big mistake, _cariño_.”

“Yes. I was using you and I needed to get you behind bars,” admitted Rebecca. “But what happened between us wasn’t exactly necessary,” she took a deep breath. “I wanted you, but that was it. I never needed you for that. Not then and not now.”

“Fuck you,” he said softly “Fuck you for everything you did.”

“Everything I did?” she said incredulously. “Remember who you are, Nevada. Remember what you do. Are you forgetting that I'm the good guy here? I'm on the good side. _You're_ not. In fact, you're an awful fucking person! You throw children off bridges and burn down corner stores! You don't care about your own fucking men and you treat women like shit! You take money from families who barely have enough to scrape by and you like to make people suffer for no reason other than your own amusement. You care more about yourself than anyone or anything else and you're a complete fucking hypocrite. You don't care! You don't even try to pretend to!”

He stared at her. Waiting.

“You're a monster,” she said. “You know that, don't you?” 

He stalked towards her like she was prey. “I’ve heard worse and I’ve done worse. You know that,” he said, he voice slow and deep. “But you still want me.”

He kissed her before she could protest his words. He took her face in his hands and tilted her head up towards his. He brought his mouth, still open from all the words, to her stiff lips but she turned away. “Stop it.”

“No,” he said, kissing her again.

“Sto—mmph.” He silenced her protest with another kiss, muttering at her. Finally, she pushed him and his hands away forcefully. “I can’t,” she said, strongly.

Somehow, this was the angriest Rebecca had ever seen him. His eyes were bloodshot, his every muscle tensed. “Can't what?” He spat. “Can't kiss me? Can't fuck me? Can't be with me? Can't lo—” He stopped before he could finish the word but they both knew exactly what he wanted to say. “Or can't arrest me? Which one is it?”

She stared at him, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Of course she wanted those things. Of course her heart cried out for him. Of course she wanted to forget everything she’d ever known and be with him. But she couldn’t. She could not do any of those things and it killed her.

What she should do killed her as well. She knew that in this moment, Nevada was hers. She could handcuff him if she wanted and take him to the precinct if she wanted and he wouldn’t protest until it was too late. But the thought of putting him behind bars hurt her far worse than the knowledge of how many people would be hurt if she didn’t.

 _And that makes me an awful fucking person._ She was much worse than Nevada. He never pretended to be good. He never believed himself to be.

“All of them,” she answered him.

There was a long pause. A very long, very painful pause. Then he approached her again. “I'm going to take your gun,” he said, forcefully ripping it out of its holster. “This way, they can't say you just let me get away. They’ll think you didn’t have a defense.” He yanked the elastic out of her hair, pausing when her newly shortened hair fell over her shoulders. He took a strand in between his fingers. “Gotta make it look like there was a bit of a fight,” he said softly. He played with her hair for a brief moment before turning to leave. “If you change your mind, at least give me a two minute head start.”

Before he could take more than two steps, Rebecca grabbed him. She turned his body to hers and kissed him, full on the mouth, intensely, harshly, and he wasted no time reciprocating. His mouth open with hers and his tongue slipped into her mouth as he pulled her closer to him.

It was clumsy and it was rough but it was all they needed, really. The two of them were out of breath when they finally parted. He looked at her, closely, studying her as if for the first time.

And wasn’t it? He now knew who she was and how she felt about him. The kiss had said it all.

“You're not as good as you think you are,” he whispered.

He turned to leave again and Rebecca didn’t stop him.


End file.
